A Boy and a Girl
by The Lady Grace
Summary: A series of fluffy one-shots based on classical music and everyone's favorite couple, Tony and Ziva! Chapter 14: The Amazing Day. Read and review please! Complete.
1. Cherry Blossoms and Oranges

**For my first NCIS story, I will be writing a series of one-shots inspired by/based on the songs composed by Eric Whitacer, who is an amazing (young) modern composer. With each on, I recommend listening to them while you read. Thanks go to my good friend Wildskysong.**

Characters: Tony, Ziva (and McGee and Gibbs make an appearance)

Pairing: Tiva

Rating: K+

Warning: Fluff

Inspiration: A Boy and A Girl by Eric Whitacer

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_A boy and a girl/stretched out on the grass/Savoring their oranges/exchanging their kisses like waves exchanging foam/_

* * *

The first thing Ziva noticed when she got into work that morning was the fact for the first time she could remember, Tony had arrived before her. He was absorbed in his work; the only acknowledgement she got was a raised hand in greeting before it went back to the keyboard in front of him. His partner had to resist the urge to take his temperature. Tony DiNozzo, working, early (for him) in the morning, into work before, _and_ he hadn't even said good morning or made a joke. Something strange was going on here.

The second thing she noticed answered some of the questions about Tony's odd behavior. On her desk were three perfect oranges, looking ripe and delicious. Underneath them was a piece of paper folded in half once. Ziva slipped it out from under the oranges and glanced at it. It was a note, written in Tony's unique scrawl.

_ Zee-vah-_

_ No, I'm not sick. I know you think I must be as I am on time and working hard today (a rare occurrence and one that I will not repeat any time soon for fear of being expected to make a pattern of it! I have a reputation to uphold.)_

_Later, you'll find out the reason for this anomaly and the oranges on your desk. Finish your work quickly and meet me at the Jefferson Memorial at 1900. Oh, and bring the oranges. _

_ -Tony_

So that was why he was so hard at work. He wanted to leave early, so he needed to finish the pile of paperwork on his desk so he could. Ziva chuckled quietly to herself. He must quite a plan up his sleeve to want to leave early that badly. She looked at her own pile of paperwork and sighed. Maybe he had the right idea. She sat down at her desk, logged on, and then carefully placed the oranges in her purse. She didn't want them to be commented on during the day, or worse, eaten, not that many would dare steal from Ziva's desk. They knew the consequences.

When Gibbs and McGee arrived, coffee cups in hand, they were surprised as Ziva had been to see Tony. Gibbs said nothing, but McGee couldn't help himself. Ziva watched as the junior field agent asked Tony what he was doing in the bull pen so early on a Monday.

"Why, Probie," the senior field agent replied, a smirk on his face. "I am here today to work hard, and get released from school early so I can have a long recess. We all know you can't go out and play if your homework isn't done. Right, Ziva?" Tony looked at her, the smirk now in her direction.

Ziva couldn't help it, the falsely earnest (or maybe it wasn't, she wasn't quite sure….that note seemed to indicate otherwise, at least for today) note in his voice making her return his smirk. "Yes, Tony, you should do your homework first. Or else you make get rapped on the knuckles by the teacher for not doing your work."

"Or I'll slap you on the back of the head, DiNozzo." came Gibbs' voice, and Tony and Ziva went back to their work, McGee getting started, with the "Getting back to work, Boss." courtesy of Tony.

* * *

The day passed slowly, for once, and it had been a day of firsts, Tony had just worked on his paperwork, not breaking up the monotony by throwing paper balls at her, or pranking McGee, or playing games on his computer. If Ziva didn't know better, she would suspect he really was sick. Without his distractions, Ziva was able to work in peace, and was so focused on her screen that she didn't realize he had left. It wasn't until her phone vibrated with a message from him that she glanced up to see his desk empty.

She opened the text message on her phone and it said: _Zee-vah, I now request your presence and those oranges…Tony._

She smiled. That sounded just like Tony, to use flowery language such as "request your presence". Luckily, she was almost finished with her paperwork. A few additions, and this much was done. There would be more, tomorrow, there always was, unless they had a case, and hopeful tomorrow Tony would be back to normal and bored, so he could distract her. She printed her finished product, grabbed her jacket and gear and put the paperwork on Gibbs' desk. He wasn't there, so Ziva just left. She was out of the building and into her car as quickly as she could without seeming rushed. Once she was in her car and on her way she drove as she always did, fast and with obedience of only some traffic laws.

Soon, sooner than most others would have been there, she was at the Jefferson Memorial. She parked, and then went to find Tony. When she found him, his face lit up in one of his brilliant grins.

"Glad you finally got here. I was afraid you had been buried under all of the paperwork and died of boredom."

Ziva chuckled as she came up beside him. "Perhaps, as for once you were not throwing paper balls at me and actually doing your work."

"I always do my work. I just don't always _look_ like I am doing my work."

"Very true. You prefer to poof off."

"Goof off. And it's part of my charm"

Ziva elbowed him, and he made a face at her. "Shall we?" He asked, motioning to the open green space of the Basin before them.

"Yes, lets." They began walking, side by side, strides matching. Ziva didn't know where they were going, but figured he did. After a moment, he reached over and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers. Ziva let him, unwinding after a long day.

On they walked, chatting some, and just enjoying the evening. The cherry trees were blossoming, and everything smelled wonderful, not to mention the beautiful sight of cherry blossoms everywhere.

Soon they came to a semi-secluded place, where there was a blanket set up, with a picnic basket, and an orange, sitting right in the middle of the blanket.

"Is this why you brought me here?" Ziva asked him, the sweep of her hand taking in the blanket, basket, orange, and the flowering tree that the blanket was under.

"Yes." Tony replied, with an impish grin. "It's the National Cherry Blossom Festival right now, and I figured we needed a break from the paperwork. Do you like it?"

Ziva stepped closer, her face now close to his, and whispered, "What do you think?" and gently kissed him, and then stepped swiftly back to tug him down onto the blanket. "What food did you bring for us?" she asked, untangling her hand to open the basket and peer inside.

"Your favorite food, of course. Philly cheese steak with extra cheese and extra steak for you and a meatball sub for me. No wine tonight, we have to drive home." Tony replied, getting comfortable on the blanket.

"And the oranges."

"Yes, and the oranges. You brought the ones I left one your desk?"

"They are in my purse." Ziva replied, finding her sandwich and after taking it out of the basket, she shut the lid. She turned back to face Tony to find he had them out of her purse and set to the side. Ziva reached for one, and Tony swatted her hand away lightly.

"Those are for dessert."

Ziva pouted, but then her stomach growled. She couldn't help it, she began to giggle. "It seems to me," she said as her laughter spilled out, "that my stomach wants me to stop pouting and eat. Then it can have the oranges it wants."

Tony started to laugh too, and he said, "Sounds like a plan."

They ate in the comfortable silence of two people too hungry to think about talking. Ziva finished before Tony, and she tried to reach for a orange again, but Ton grabbed her fingers and shook his head. "I'm not done yet, you have to wait for me to finish too." Ziva glared at him, willing him to eat faster. Tony ignored her, if anything eating slower to annoy her. Finally, after what seemed like forever to Ziva (but was in fact less than five minutes) Tony was done.

"Alright, Zee-vah, now we can have the oranges." Tony told her, amusement in his green eyes.

"At last! You eat slower than maple syrup."

"It's molasses."

"Whatever!" Ziva grabbed an orange, and peeled it quickly, taking the first bite of the juicy fruit, savoring the rich flavor. She ate her orange slowly, slice by slice, getting juice all over her fingers in the process. In the middle, she decided to lie down and look up at the cherry branches that arched over their heads.

Tony stretched out beside her, and it was peaceful, eating oranges and looking up at the delicate blossoms against the blue sky. When she was through with her first orange, she tried to sit up to grab another one, but Tony tugged her back down beside him. He picked up another one from his side of the blanket on which they lay, side by side. He peeled it, and then feed it to her slowly. Ziva stared into his eyes as he did, enjoying the tenderness there. "Are you enjoying yourself, my little hairy butt?" she asked, when the orange was gone.

"Very much, sweet cheeks. Are you?" he asked in return, grabbing her sticky fingers.

"Yes." She whispered as he brought her fingers to his lips and gently kissed them. "Do my fingers taste good?"

"Mm-hmm" he murmured. He kissed the top of her hand and then set it on his chest, not letting go.

Ziva scooted closer, her hand still trapped in his. His other hand, the one not holding hers, snaked out to slip under her hip and pull her closer still. They lay like that, stretched out on the grass, holding hands and watching the sky darken as the sun set. As the evening progressed, Ziva was grateful they were so close together, as the chill reminded her that while it was spring, the nights were still cool. When the sun had set but it was not all the way dark yet, she half-sat up, leaning on her elbow to look down at him. "Thank you for bringing me out here, I have enjoyed myself. It was a good way to unwind after paperwork." She leaned down and kissed him, and she was pleased to find he tasted like oranges and coffee.

"You're welcome." He whispered when she had pulled back slightly. She was about to kiss him again when a stiff breeze blew, and they both shivered. "Guess that means it is time to go home now." He said as she sat back, a note of disappointment in his voice.

"Maybe," Ziva said, as they packed everything up. "But that does not mean we cannot do this again."

"Are you asking me out, Zee-vah?" Tony asked, and Ziva could practically hear his grin as she packed the food, her back to him.

She turned, and grinned at him in the twilight. "Yes, I am."

"Good. But I hope your boyfriend doesn't get jealous."

"Oh, he won't. Because next time I will get the oranges and set everything up so he does not have to actually do some work for a change."

They both grinned again and finished packing up. As they walked back to the parking lot, hand in hand, Ziva decided that she was glad he had been acting strange this morning. She had enjoyed the results of his oddness very much. She also decided that her new favorite fruit was oranges.

* * *

_A boy and a girl/stretched out on the grass/Savoring their oranges/exchanging their kisses like waves exchanging foam/_

* * *

**And that's that. It started with the above quote and turned into five pages on my computer. Coincidently, on the day this was written, March 27****th****, 2010, is the first day of the National Cherry Blossom festival. ;)**

**As for the delay between its writing and this posting, I blame my beta who took so long to get it back to me! XD**

**The next one should be up soon, it is already written but still needs to be edited. I have 5 so far completed but unedited, so updates should be pretty quick.**

**-The Lady Grace**


	2. Movie Night

**Here goes number 2! This one is inspired by "Sleep" by Eric Whitacre, which is one of THE most amazing songs I have ever heard in my entire life. A big thank you to all who reviewed and left alerts, and I hope for even more reviews this time.**

**The biggest thanks go to my beta, Wildskysong, who yet again, improved this story with her editing.  
**

**Characters: **Tony and Ziva**  
**

**Pairing: **T/Z**  
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**Rating: **K+**  
**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I own nothing, except a few Eric Whitacre songs on my iPod….**

* * *

_Upon my pillow, safe in bed/A thousand pictures fill my head/I cannot sleep my minds a flight/And yet my limbs seem made of lead/If there are noises in the night/A frightening shadow, flickering light/Then I surrender unto sleep  
__  


* * *

_

Ziva was not a fan of nightmares. But then, who would be? When darkness descended, any one of multiple bad memories could come back to haunt her. A case, a word, a shadow spotted out of the corner of her eye, any one of them could trigger a frightening dream. Worse were when the memories would not let her sleep in the first place. It got to the point where she would not only be stressed in the morning, but she would be exhausted too. There were not more nightmares now than before the summer she had spent in Somalia, but there were many, many new ones.

She tried to hide them. She didn't want the pity. She knew it was normal, that it was her subconscious' way of processing what she had been through. It didn't make it any easier. Within a few weeks of coming home, she had begun to work out harder than before, because the more tired she was, the easier it was to get to sleep, and the less she dreamed. The exercise was good for her, too; she was in better shape than ever before, and she had higher stamina. She had begun trying new exercises than she typically had not done before, to work her body in different ways and to distract herself.

Then, unfortunately, winter had come, and with it, snow, ice, and bitter cold. That limited the exercise she could safely get, and she knew Gibbs would have her hide if she broke something slipping and falling because did not see the ice. So the nightmares came frequently again. And there was nothing Ziva could do about it.

When spring arrived and the weather improved, so did her sleep.

Summer had been the best, as she was most comfortable with warm weather and spent several wonderful weekends away with Tony, both leaving behind their cell phones and claiming innocence as to why they had been unreachable.

Then fall had come, and with the changing leaves came the return of the nightmares. She thought that she should have been over this by now, but to no avail. On the nights when Tony was with her, she slept well, but those nights were few and far in between, the fall had been a busy one. That trend had continued into the winter, and now, again, she slept little, lying, even to Tony, about the bags under her eyes. She didn't like it, but she had no choice.

She didn't want him to think she was weak.

* * *

Friday morning came and Ziva was a little bit late to work, by her standards. She was normally the first or second one there; Gibbs was usually the only one to arrive before her. This morning, however, she was the last to arrive, but she was still not late. Tony was in the office, but his desk was empty. Ziva knew he was there because the computer at his desk was running, probably all ready for the games he would play to waste his time until he could leave, and because there was one of his notes on her desk. Since Paris, almost a year ago now, they had been in a quiet relationship. He had taken to leaving her notes on her desk with something funny or sweet written inside. She would return the favor, either replying or with a funny quote of her own. He always hid the note under something, a piece of candy, a box of tea. Once, for her birthday, he had given her a new knife-sharpening stone, and underneath it a note with jokes about birthdays. Today the note was underneath a box of microwave popcorn and movie candy, her favorite, Raisinettes. The note said:

_Zee-vah_

_Movie night tonight? It has been a few weeks since we haven't had a case on Friday, and so far (hope this doesn't jinx us) we don't have a case. So let me know, 'cause if we still have no case (and this is not our weekend on call) we need a movie night. I'll get the food, and you can pick the movie. Let me know, sweet-cheeks!_

_-Tony_

Ziva glanced up; the bullpen was empty, for now. She slipped the note in her pocket, and hid the popcorn and the box of candy. She pulled a post-it note off the stack on her desk, and scribbled a reply, that she did want to have a movie night, and it was her turn to have it in her apartment. She picked up her note and darted over to Tony's desk, hiding it under the receiver of his phone. He would find it there. She slipped back to her desk, and pulled out her paperwork. She hated paperwork.

Ziva had been working for almost ten minutes when Tony arrived, holding two cups from the team's favorite coffee shop. He set one down on her desk and she looked up at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

"It's tea, Ziva. I see those bags under your eyes, you know. This should keep you awake through the day so you can fall asleep on my shoulder during the movie." He replied to the silent question.

"How do you know I said yes?" Ziva asked, playing with him, a cheeky smile on her face.

"You hid the reply under my phone again, and you used a bright pink post-it note."

Ziva laughed. He was right, and she picked up the tea. She inhaled, taking in the wonderful scent. She almost felt better just by the vapor from her favorite tea. She took a sip, sighing contentedly. It was delicious.

"Thank you for the tea. I am glad the shop sells tea now." Ziva told him, as she turned her attention back to the screen in front of her.

"I think they figured if people were going to keep getting cups of hot water for tea they might as well sell the tea, plus all of the health mumbo jumbo tea is supposed to do for you."

Ziva just rolled her eyes and kept on working, despite Tony's continued attempts to distract her.

* * *

Unlocking her apartment after work, she was glad that she already had a movie picked out and Tony was getting the food, because her apartment was a wreck. Ziva straitened up, picking up trash from take-out and putting her books back on her shelves, picking up pillows and blankets, making sure her shoes weren't in the front hallway for people to trip over, and other various tasks. She had just finished when the door bell rang, and she went to answer, pausing for a moment to check that she looked alright in the mirror. Ziva opened the door, and there he was, holding a pizza box and his signature grin on his face.

"I figured since it had been a while pizza would work. Is that okay with you?" Tony asked as she stepped back to let him in her front door.

"Yes, I like pizza. Did you get your favorite pizza or mine this time?" Ziva asked back, moving down the hallway towards her living room.

"Half of each, just so you wouldn't complain." Was the answer Tony gave as he set the box down on her coffee table.

Ziva smirked at him over her shoulder as she put in the DVD in the player. "I would not complain….I would pick off what I did not like and then decide on a suitable punishment for you."

"Your paperclip again?"

"No, I would think up something new." She came and sat down next to him, handing him the remote. Ziva knew that if he didn't have the remote in his hand, he would complain until he did, even if he had no use for it, he just needed to be the one holding it.

"What are we watching tonight?" he asked, picking up the first slice of pizza.

* * *

Ziva woke up much later, though how much later she did not know. The last thing she remembered was watching the movie, the pizza box empty on the table, her head on his shoulder. Now, she was alone in her bed in a dark, quiet room, strange shadows flickering on the wall from the window to the left of her bed, made by the tree outside her apartment complex and from cars passing by at the late hour it was. She lay still, trying to return to sleep, but her gut was churning again, just like it did every night. Images filled her mind, as they had done so many times before, but still, they came again. The faces of those she had killed, the faces of the ones she couldn't save, Tali among them. Saleem was there, with that dark smile of his, coming closer and closer… Her whole body was tense, and nothing was working, she couldn't relax. Tossing and turning, trying desperately to get comfortable so sleep would come, she shifted; something bothered her no matter which way she lay. She was tired, exhausted, she longed for rest. Every night had been the same this week. Her whole body felt heavy, but she couldn't let go. The shadows that had just been leaves were now more sinister, and she wanted to close her eyes, but she didn't want to face the nightmares that would follow.

And then her bedroom door opened, and light spilled in, and the silhouette in the door way spoke in a familiar voice before she had the chance to grab the gun on her bedside table. "Ziva? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Tony. Go back to sleep." She replied, not wanting to tell him about the nightmares. He had been asleep on her couch. They would share a bed when they were both awake at the end of the movie, but when one of them fell asleep before the end credits, he would sleep on the couch. Either he would put her to bed and go back to the couch or she would leave him to sleep there and she would go to bed.

"Now, I am going to pretend you didn't just lie to me, Ziva." Tony said, stepping inside the door and shutting it behind him.

"What makes you think I was lying?"

"Ziva, I could hear you tossing and turning from your couch. I knew when you woke up because you stopped snoring."

"How could you hear me over your own snores?" She asked, trying to use his trick and hiding behind humor.

"I wasn't asleep yet, Zee." Tony sat down next to her on the bed. "Want to talk about it?"

He had asked this before, other nights when he had been there, looking at the shadows in her eyes. Those times she had not answered, had told him everything was fine. He had looked at her in the way that told her he didn't believe a word she said, and that she would tell him sooner or later. This time, she was tired of pretending.

"I…could not sleep."

"Bad dreams?" His voice was gentle, no blame in it.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to stay? Hold you and chase away the monsters?"

Ziva David, former Mossad officer, now a federal agent, at one time would have said no, that she could handle it, and sent him back to her couch. But now, she decided to say yes, to let him stay, to let him hold her. Because he was here, and because for so long she had wanted him here, and now she didn't want to send him away, even if she was afraid saying yes would seem weak, and the weakness would scare him away.

"Yes, please stay."

He slipped around to what had become his side of the bed, and he climbed under the covers, and he pulled her close.

"You don't have to tell me what the nightmares are about, Zee-vah." He whispered, and she turned in his grip to snuggle against his chest. She rested her head over his heart, and she could hear it beating. It was a comforting sound, and she was glad, now, that she had said yes. "But I can tell you why I wasn't asleep."

"Why?" she whispered into his chest.

"Because I dreamed about Africa, and that it wasn't you Saleem brought, and that you really were dead, that he brought your body."

"But it was me, and I am not dead. Because of you, Tony."

"I know, but that's what I dreamed about. Those dreams always keep me up. I'm afraid that when I wake up, I'll find that this has all been a dream, and I lost one of the only women I could ever love."

"Thankfully, this is not a dream."

"Thankfully. Sleep tight, Zivaleh."

Ziva relaxed now, at last, tucked tightly in the safest embrace she knew. As she surrendered unto sleep, she heard the four most wonderful words, whispered into her hair.

"I love you, Ziva David."

_I love you too, Tony DiNozzo. _She thought as she drifted into peaceful dreams, at long last.

* * *

_Upon my pillow, safe in bed/A thousand pictures fill my head/I cannot sleep my minds a flight/And yet my limbs seem made of lead/If there are noises in the night/A frightening shadow, flickering light/Then I surrender unto sleep_

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**Again, I was not sure when I started where this would end up, and here it is. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Please be sure to leave your thoughts and comments, constructive critisim is always welcomed.**

**-The Lady Grace**


	3. Snow Day

**This one is a favorite of mine, mostly because I love snow. I am always sad when the snow melts and very happy when it snows.**

**Thanks for all reviews, they make me very happy. Though, I get more alerts than reviews and I wish that was flipped. So I am offering a sneak preview of future chapters for those who review. **

**This time I blame the delay on . They refused to give me this chapter back from Wild.  
**

**Huge thanks go to my beta, Wildskysong. She helps me with my issues with commas. Commas and I do not always get along very well. **

**Characters: **Tony and Ziva, as well as Abby and McGee

**Pairing: **T/Z, M/A

**Rating: **K**  
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**Inspiration: **Eyze Shelleg! (What Snow!)

* * *

_What snow!/Like little dreams/Falling from the sky._

* * *

The sound of buzzing invaded her sleep. It started out as a part of her dream, finally tugging her toward consciousness. Just as she became aware of her surroundings the noise stopped with a quiet beep that indicated to the half-awake Ziva David that the buzzing had been a phone ringing and that the caller had left a message. Without opening her eyes, she knew that the phone was hers, because it had rang from behind her, which was where her phone sat on the bedside table, next to her sidearm. She knew that it would be best to get up and find out who had called and what they wanted, after all; her team, Gibbs' team, was on-call this weekend, so it could be someone from the office letting them know they had a case to work. Or it could just be someone with a death wish.

She knew she should get up and check, but she did not want to move. She was warm, nestled in her bed under several layers of warm blankets, not to mention she was snuggled against the chest of her own personal heater, which went by the name of Anthony D. DiNozzo. He, thankfully, was still deep in sleep; as evidenced by his deep and rhythmic breathing broken by the occasional snore. He needed the sleep, much more than normal. In the past three weeks, they had worked several hard cases in a row, with barely any time to catch their breath. They came in quick succession like several powerful punches to the gut. The cases had been hard on all of them, for varying reasons, but the one most affected was the man sleeping beside her. Cases had triggered nightmares in both of them, and not to mention the late nights pulled in the office and the damage done by sleeping either on the floor or in their chairs. The dark circles under his eyes were just now beginning to fade, after two nights of unbroken sleep.

After waffling between staying still and checking the message, she finally decided on checking the message. If it was a case, Gibbs would be angry if they were late. She carefully removed herself from the circle of Tony's arms, leaving him still asleep, and got out of the bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the icy floor boards. _Why have we not gotten a rug for this room? The floor is always cold!_ She thought shivering as she quickly grabbed her phone and raced on her toes into the hallway, skittering down it into the bathroom. As soon as she was inside, the door shut behind her, she sighed in relief. There were warm plush rugs on the floor here. She sat down against the door and opened her phone. The missed call was from McGee, and as she had known, he had left her a message. She pushed the call button to call her voicemail, and after hearing the computerized voice, she heard his message:

_Hey Ziva…its me, McGee. I am just calling to let you know that NCIS has shut down for the weekend, so there is no need to come in to work today, and we are off call. I figure we'll get put on-call some other weekend. Hey, do you think you could make sure Tony gets the message? His cell phone is going straight to voicemail and his home phone voicemail is full. See you on Monday, hopefully. _

Ziva chuckled softly. Of course his phone was going straight to voicemail. She had turned it off the night before. They had an agreement that one of them would leave their phone on over weekends, and they would pretend to call the other. He would need to empty his voicemail. He never answered his home phone, since it was just an empty apartment now. He owned his apartment after living in it for so long, and when they had decided to move in together, he kept his apartment and her name was on the one they shared, and on all the bills, so as to keep their relationship quiet. They had no desire to be separated in anyway again.

Since there was no need to be up without work to rush off to, she got to her feet and headed back to her warm bed. Turning off the alarm, she set her phone back in its place on the dark wood of her bedside table; she slipped into the flannel sheets. Tony had shifted some in her absence, allowing her to move back into her accustomed place tucked against his chest. It was comfortable there, her head over his heart, placed close enough that her head moved with his every breath. It made her feel safe in a way few things did. She closed her eyes, enjoying the luxury of nowhere to go and nothing to do.

* * *

She was woken some time later by the feeling of gentle fingers running through her loose hair. She did not lift her head, but simply lay there, letting him work the tangles out of her mane.

"Good morning, sweet cheeks." He murmured, his chest vibrating with his deep voice.

"How did you know I was awake?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes to glance at the clock. It read 7:15 in glowing red numbers, much later than normal for her to be getting up.

"You stopped snoring." This was a common answer, the default reply used whenever needed.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked now, wondering how long he had laid there, her head on his chest, watching her sleep and playing with her hair.

"Not long. I know we need to get moving so as not to be late for work, but you looked so comfy, I didn't want to move."

She chuckled, knowing he wouldn't even consider waking her by moving. The last time he had done that….it was a good thing she had realized who it was before she had grabbed her gun. Even now, if she was woken from deep sleep by something other than her alarm clock or her phone, she had a tendency to act first, question later.

"Luckily for you, McGee called a while ago and said for some reason the Navy Yard is closed and we are off the line."

"Off the hook, Zee."

"You knew what I meant!" She lifted her head to glare at him now. "If you know what I mean than why do you correct me?"

He looked a bit sheepish. "It's habit by now, and you look cute when you are angry."

She was still glaring at him. He sighed, and then said, "At first, it was because it was something I knew and you didn't, you seem to know everything else. Then it was because it was something we shared, and I didn't want to let it go."

She relaxed, and then moved on. "Anyway, we have the weekend off now, so there is no reason to get out of bed."

"I wonder why NCIS closed…" Tony mused.

"McGee did not say in his message. But he did say that _someone's_ voicemail was full, again."

Tony sighed. "Wonder how many will be telemarketers this time?"

"More than last time."

"Is that a bet?" He was smiling now, she could feel it.

"What are the stakes?" She asked, almost regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"The reason NCIS is closed is probably because of snow, it was in the forecast. If I am right, and there are more telemarketers on my machine, you get to decide how we spend our day off. If there is less, then I get to decide."

"I will be right. Then I will spend the day inside with a book and you will build me a fire in the fireplace."

* * *

She had the radio on as she cooked their breakfast. The red radio played classical music from where it sat on the hardwood counter. Humming along, Ziva moved about the kitchen, gathering ingredients for pancakes, putting it all by the two bowls she had out already. One half of the pancakes would be normal, the other whole wheat. This was the compromise Ziva had made to encourage her boyfriend to eat healthier. It was an uphill battle.

The sound of Tony's footsteps nearing the kitchen alerted her to his presence. She turned, and sighed inwardly as she glimpsed the smug grin on his face. He swaggered into the kitchen and sat down at the table, still grinning madly. Ziva turned back to the stove, refusing to ask how many telemarketers had been on the machine and let him gloat out loud. She finished mixing the pancakes, and poured four circles of mix onto the warmed griddle on the stove top. Without looking at him, she said, "Tony if you want to eat breakfast you need to set the table and stop staring at me grinning like that Cheshire Cat!"

He got up and retrieved the dishes and silverware placing them on the table and getting their drinks, coffee for him, tea for her. When the pancakes were finished, she placed them on his plate and hers, and they sat down together.

Tony managed to eat one pancake before he couldn't keep quiet any longer. "So, do you know what we are going to do today since I won?"

"Stay warm and comfortable at home like sane people?" she said, her voice dry.

"Since when was I considered sane?" he shot back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

* * *

"Tell me again why we are going to go hurtling down a hill covered in snow on a piece of plastic?" Ziva asked, already wishing she was back at home with a book.

They stood at the top of a hill inside on of DC's many metro parks, snow a white blanket thick on the ground as far as the eye could see. All around them children in all manner of snow gear zipped down the hill, widely acknowledged as one of the best in the metro area, on sleds of every shape and color. Tony had on snow pants and a black winter coat, his sunglasses, even though the sky was gray and fat flakes still drifted down onto the city. Ziva was wearing her holiday present from Abby, a full set of winter gear. Abby had told her excitedly that there was predicted to be a good amount of snow this year, and she needed the warm coat and waterproof pants she now wore. Tony held a yellow sled under his arm, grinning.

"We are going sledding because it is an experience you don't have yet, and it is fun!" he told her, setting the sled down at the pinnacle of the slope. "Now," he said, "what we are going to do is: we are going to ride down together, and when we get to the bottom we will brush ourselves off and climb back up. I will sit in back, because the person who weighs more always goes in back." He sat down on the back of the sled and patted the place in front of him with a gloved hand. She sat, and his arms came around her waist.

"Tony!" she hissed, "We are in public!"

"But, Ziva, this is how I hang on when you ride double. Nothing more." He was whining. If she hadn't heard him do it before, she would never believe he was capable of whining. But he was.

"Fine." She growled.

"Here we go!" He cried, and lifted his feet. They started sliding down the hill, faster and faster. They flew down the slope, and Ziva realized she was laughing. They swerved twice to miss children stopped at the bottom of the hill. They came to a stop in a shower of snow, tipping over into the fluff.

"Wanna go again?" he asked as they untangled themselves and got to their feet.

"Yes!" she laughed. It had been more fun than she had thought, flying down the hill and almost crashing before coming to a stop.

* * *

They had just reached the top after their third run when they heard someone call their names. Turning in unison, Ziva spotted a familiar figure something through the snow toward them. It was Abby, dressed head to toe in a black ski suit with skulls printed on it. Her head was covered by a ski cap with pink skull rhinestones, her pigtails sticking out of the top through holes cut in the fabric. Her gloves were dark red, and she had a huge grin on her face.

"Well if it isn't Abby? And is that you, McParka?" Tony called.

And it was. McGee was beside the forensic scientist, with a thick, expensive looking parka on, complete with a furry hood. McGee blushed. "It was a gift from my sister."

"Yeah right, McFlurry." Tony said, his signature grin in place. Ziva elbowed him and then asked why they were there.

Abby answered, practically bouncing in place, "Everyone knows this is the best sledding hill around and how often do we get this much snow?"

"Not often." Tony agreed.

"Why are you here?" McGee asked.

"Ziva has never been sledding and this is payback for pounding on my door so early this morning. Couldn't you have called McGee?"

McGee just sighed. Abby piped up, "Hey! Since there are four of us, we could race doubles!"

"Race?" said McGee and Ziva at the same time.

"Yeah! There are two men and two women, so it should be fair. Ziva and I are about the same size." Abby explained, growing more excited by the minuet. "McGee and I will ride together, and you can ride with Tony."

The two men nodded, and Ziva smiled. "May the best pair win." She offered.

"Us" Tony whispered in her ear, and she chuckled. They turned away and placed their sled. When they were all set to go, they looked over at McGee and Abby. They were settling in as well, McGee's arms around Abby's waist. "Told you." He whispered again, and she elbowed him. "Are you two ready?" Tony called.

"Are you?" Abby called back.

"More than ready." Ziva answered.

"On your mark," both teams tensed, "get set….Go!" Abby shouted, and both teams pushed off into the swirling snow.

At the bottom, the winners were clear. Tony and Ziva won merely by reaching the bottom, as Abby and McGee crashed on the way down. They were fine, laughing as they picked themselves up. McGee extended his hand to help Abby up, and Ziva noticed that they held on a few beats too long. "There is something there, is there not?" Ziva asked Tony, her voice low.

"Probably. They have a history, and if the way he looks at her is any indication…" Tony voiced his thoughts quietly.

"Much like us?" came the whisper.

"Very much like us." Was the reply.

* * *

Ziva stepped back to admire her handiwork. In the lawn in front of their apartment a snow man with a NCIS hat and a scarf wearing cotton stuffed rubber gloves stood proudly. After Abby and McGee had decided they had enough wrecking their sled, having not once made it all the way to the bottom, the pair had left to find some lunch. Tony and Ziva had come home and on whim on Tony's, began making the snow man. That had been an hour ago, and there had been much laughter while trying to roll the snow balls that made up the snow Special Agent. Ziva was about to look around for Tony and ask him to grab a camera when something icy cold impacted her face from the side.. She whirled around, spotting her partner standing to the side, hands clasped behind him, whistling in a vain attempt to appear innocent. Ziva didn't ask if he had thrown the snow, she simply reached down, scooped up the snow packing it quickly in gloved hands and hurled it at him, catching him with a face full of snow.

"Oh, now it's on!" shouted Tony, and the snow war began. Ziva scooped up more snow, not even waiting for retaliation. She packed with swiftly and was just about to throw it when two snow balls thrown in quick succession caught her in the side. She lobbed the snow ball she held at him and reached for more snow.

Advance and retreat, flank and counter flank; the flying snow hardly paused as they chased each other around the yard. Across the driveway they charged, using cars for cover to create more snowballs while waiting for the opportunity to strike. Emerging from hiding to unleash a flurry of snow at the other. Back through the snow on the lawn they went, being careful not to damage to carefully constructed snow Agent. Laughter filled the air, interspersed with noises of surprise when expert tosses connected. Back to the cars, Tony leading the way with Ziva hot on his heals. Ziva crouched beside her car, waiting for Tony's head to reappear from where it had disappeared. She had not seen him move, so he was still there, she thought, and she could wait to get him when he came out of hiding. But where was he? She was just about to go and get closer when Tony snuck up behind her and dumped a ton of snow on her head. She shrieked in surprise and cold as snow slid down her shirt chilling her back. She sprang to her feet and he wisely started to run and she followed. In the middle of the yard she caught him, tackling him to the ground and shoving snow down his shirt. He yelped and shoved her off of him as she laughed at the indignation written on his face.

He began to laugh. She laughed at him, with snow in his hair and all over his body. He laughed at himself and her ice crystal encrusted hair and eyebrows. They laughed at the yard, covered with footprints and divots caused by scooping up snow. They laughed at the snow Agent, standing on the only calm piece of snow in what had been the battleground. All at once Ziva shivered; the day catching up to her and the snow down her shirt cooling her body. Tony stood, and extended his hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet.

"Can we go in now?" she asked, feeling the cold.

"Yes, my formerly Israeli ninja." Tony said, teasing in his eyes.

* * *

A warm fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Curled in a blanket on the couch facing the fireplace, Ziva did not look up for the book nestled in her lap as footsteps heralded Tony's entrance to the room. She did look up as he set a cup of tea with steam rising from the brown liquid on the coffee table next to her. He carried his own cup and set it down at the other end of the table, sitting down and placing his feet next to hers.

"Enjoying your book, Zee-vah?" he asked as picked up the remote to turn the TV on low.

She smiled at him, enjoying having him close by. "Yes. Thank you for the tea." She said as she extracted her arm from the blanket to pick up the tea. She sipped it carefully, tasting the peppermint.

"You are very welcome. Did you enjoy your day in the snow? I know I did." Tony said, not looking at the TV but at her face.

"Except for the part when you shoved snow down my jacket, yes I did. By the way, how many telemarketers were on your machine?"

Tony shifted uneasily. "Um…."

"Tony." She said, warning in her voice.

"More than last time?" He said, looking sheepish.

She threw a pillow at him.

* * *

**And so finishes yet another adventure with Tony and Ziva. **

**Reviews are more than welcome; please let me know what you think and any suggestions for improvement.**

**See you next time!**

**-The Lady Grace**


	4. Moon

**After a long hiatus, we return to the story. Thanks to my editor Lady Arwin for (finally) editing this.**

**Enjoy!**

_The moon is hiding in her hair. / The lily of heaven/ full of all dreams, /__draws down._

She was sitting in the window seat.

Tony leaned against the door way of the living room, watching Ziva, as he slowly woke was the middle of the night and he had woken to her side of the bed empty. He had gotten up to look for her and found her sitting in the window seat of the picture window facing the street; dressed in his OSU t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Her head was resting back against the wall, eyes closed. He couldn't tell if she was just closing her eyes or she had fallen asleep out here.

The moon was full that night and it shone in through the window, casting her shadow on the floor. It shown on his girlfriend's hair, illuminating it as it hung in loose curls from a messy pony tail. The moonlight softened her features, and she looked peaceful as she slept. (ok so she looked peaceful, but is there any way to make this point more expressive?)

He moved quietly from his place by the door to the couch and stretched out. He rested his head on his hands, still watching her. She sometimes fell asleep in the strangest places. Once she had fallen asleep curled under her desk. Another time she had fallen asleep wedged between some of Abby's machines. In the middle of a long case she had once fallen asleep in Observation while trying to watch Gibbs and Tony interrogate several of the possible suspects. Tony had found her there, stretched out on the floor, her head in her arms. Tony felt that Ziva was like the soldiers Tony had known over the years. They got sleep whenever and wherever they could.

He didn't want to go back to bed. After having Ziva cuddled against his chest almost every night, it was hard to sleep alone now. He could still remember the first time she had wormed her way close to him and rested her head on his chest, right over his heart. It felt right to him; to have the woman he loved sleeping above the heart she owned almost completely.

He settled more deeply into the couch. It was peaceful here, stretched out on his couch; watching her as he debated returning to sleep. His eyes were caught by Ziva shifting in her sleep, probably trying to find a more comfortable position on the window seat. Sitting up, he rested his elbows on his knees. She looked peaceful there on the window seat with the moon shining through her hair, but he knew she wasn't comfortable. He got up and walked over to stand beside her. Carefully scooping her up, he carried her back towards their room. Through the dark hall; her body limp in his arms; into their sanctuary he carried her. This room; with the comfortable bed, two windows covered with curtains, was perfect for them . It had a walk-in closet which had been Ziva's request, so she could go in, shut the door and surprise him with her clothes on occasion. This was the place she felt safest, the curtains thick to prevent anyone from seeing in if they chose not to open them. And when they slept close together, the nightmares stayed away, most of the time.

He gently set her down on her side of the bed, and covered her with the blanket. He went around the bed and lay down in his side, and carefully pulled her against his side. He needed her here. He felt he could protect her this way. He settled more deeply into the mattress, and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, Ziva." He whispered to her. He knew his dreams would be.

For a mere instant, Ziva was disoriented as she woke in a darkened room and not in the window seat where she had fallen asleep. Then her senses registered the warmth of the man beside her and the protective arm around her. She snuggled closer, deciding that he must have woken to her gone, found her asleep and brought her back to bed. He had been doing that for as long as they had been together. She was grateful; if she had stayed on the window seat she would have woken with her body stiff from sleeping curled in a ball in a wooden seat.

Here in her cocoon of darkness and warmth, she felt her body relax. She half-wished, as she drifted back toward sleep, that she had been awake when he had carried her back to bed. Maybe next time she would be. She could always threaten him. But he would just laugh at her and smile that grin of his, and say neither yes nor no. And then, when she least expected it, he would sweep her off her feet. She knew he would. It was just the sort of romantic thing he was prone to.


	5. Shimmer

**Hey, I know it's been a while. I blame real life. But thanks to the amazing AliyahNCIS who did a great job betaing this, I have this one ready. Actually, I have a lot written, but without a beta I tend not to post. So! Without further ado, I present the new one-shot.**

_**Shimmer**_

_Put up your little arms / and I'll give them all to you to hold / every finger shall have its ring / and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy_

Three times. Three times he had planned it all out, got down on one knee and done the very thing he thought he would never do - ask Ziva David to marry him. And all three times she had shot him right out of the sky. No remorse, just "No". The first two times she had humored him and listened to his spiel. The third time she said no before he even opened his mouth.

She had given him reasons for saying no, even though they had been together for so long. It was the longest relationship either of than had been in, real or other wise. The reasons she had given had been logical, well thought-out and reasonable, but that didn't lessen his frustration. He loved her deeply, of that he was sure. He was also sure that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with anyone else. And he was sure there was no one in the world he wanted to have Ziva but him. She was his, and he wanted the whole world to know it.

Her reasons were that they were an exclusive couple with no need to change; they were practically married anyway; she was a new citizen, it would look suspicious; it was easier with their job if they were not married - reasons of that nature. He didn't believe a single one of them. He knew her, his partner. He had known her too long for that. She had let him in before, when she had come home from Africa, and in Paris, when she had allowed him to comfort her in her nightmares. But now she was shutting him out again, in a way that seemed unlike the strong woman she was, as if she was afraid of something. But every time he asked her if she was okay, she would blow him off with a non-answer that told him nothing.

He had tried hard all three times to get her to say yes. Planned elaborate dates and done everything she liked before popping the question. And every time it had gone up in smoke. He knew he would ask again, but he had no idea how he go about it.

As the days passed, Tony continued to toy with ideas on how to convince her to marry him. He picked up an idea, examined it mentally and then cast it aside. Nothing was gelling, and he was quietly bothered by the fact that he felt like such a hypocrite. After all, for so long he had been the playboy and then he had settled down somewhat with Ziva. Now he who had never been one for permanent relationships was trying to convince someone that it was a good idea.

He had to do something different this time, but he didn't know what. He couldn't ask for advice, mostly because of his own pride. He wanted this to be completely his own brainchild, no way was he going to admit defeat and ask for help.

He was sitting in front of his computer and was supposed to be working, but in reality he was reviewing the past three attempts to see what he could have done differently. Again and again he played it out in his head, trying in vain to find something he could fix.

His assignment was to run a background check on a suspect, but he just couldn't concentrate. He was just about to shut down his search and look for something else, perhaps bank records would prove more interesting. For some strange reason, he doubted it.

Then his cell phone rang.

"DiNozzo" he answered it, not paying attention.

"Tony, this is Ziva" gasped the voice on the other end of the line.

"What's up?" he asked, sitting up straight in his chair.

"We are returning from the suspect's house. A car is following us. I am sure of it. I am attempting to lose the tail," she replied, and Tony could hear the car noises in the background.

Ziva and McGee had gone to check out the suspect's house and on the off chance they were home, speak with them. Gibbs was checking in with Abby and Ducky, and Tony had been doing desk work. But it seemed that had just changed.

"Where are you?" Tony asked, starting the program to trace her call. Ziva replied with her approximate location, and Tony matched it with the trace that came up. "Do you need back up?" he asked.

There was no reply. All he heard was a gunshot.

Tony paced back and forth, unable to stand still. Back and forth he moved; his mind as active as his body. It raced from one frantic scenario to another, each more frightening than the last. _This is what I get for having an active imagination,_ he thought.

All he knew was that his girlfriend and partner was alive as was McGee, though both were injured. He didn't know the extent of the injuries, and what types of injuries both had. Police had assisted in ending the chase, that he knew, and the man who had been chasing them was now in Interrogation, being given no mercy by Gibbs.

"If you keep pacing like that you will wear a hole in the floor." The voice from behind him belonged to Abby. She had just joined him in the waiting room of the hospital in which he now paced, and her worried expression matched his mood. He changed his course to move to sit beside the chair she sank into. "Do you know anything?" she asked him.

"No." he replied with a sigh, and glanced at the doors behind which he was forbidden to go, willing a doctor to exit through them and tell him that Ziva was just fine. They sat quietly side by side for a few moments, both concerned and waiting to hear how their loved ones fared.

Abby broke the silence first. "You know how hospitals force you to confront your feelings about something?" she said, her voice quieter than normal.

"Yeah," he replied. "I know what you mean."

Abby opened her mouth to say something else, but then a doctor came through the double doors and asked for the family of Ziva David. Tony stood, going over to the doctor to explain that he was Ziva's primary contact and asked for the umpteenth time if he could see her. The doctor finally agreed.

He stood in the doorway, visually checking her over. He cataloged a few cuts from broken glass, some bruises and a dark smudge on her forehead. He relaxed slightly that her injuries weren't worse. She watched him watch her, dark eyes guarded and cool. He finally moved away from the door to sit in the chair beside her bed.

He didn't speak. For once in his life, Tony didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell her how glad he was that she was okay, how worried he was, how much he loves her and why it was so frustrating that he had to wait to see her just because he wasn't technically her family.

Ziva at last shattered the quiet. "I am alright, Tony." She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it to convince him she was as okay as she said.

"Yeah, but you almost weren't. You called me for help and all I heard was gunfire before the line went dead. I've been in enough car chases, I know how they can go wrong. The doctors wouldn't tell me anything and all I knew was that you're alive. I couldn't help but assume the worst. They wouldn't tell me because in their eyes I'm just your partner. Because you won't say yes I am stuck waiting and worrying when I could at least be worrying and holding your hand. I've almost lost you so many times. I love you so much. Please, sweetcheeks, I can't live without you. Don't make me."

Ziva was quiet for a moment, and then asked, "Did you just propose again?"

Tony considered the question seriously. "I suppose I did."

"Yes."

"What?" He couldn't possibly have heard right.

"Yes, I will marry you."

Tony broke into a wide grin. He lifted the hand he held to his lips and gently kissed it. "Guess that means for us fourth time was the charm."

Ziva chuckled softly. Tony dropped her hand, dug around in his pockets, muttering and then triumphantly drew out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a white gold ring with an opal and two diamonds set into the band.

"Tony….you have been carrying this around with you?"

"For a while now. When I saw it, I knew it was the one for you. It shines with an inner fire, just like you." He leaned over and kissed her, gently. He drew back slightly and rested his face against hers. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back. They turned their heads to gaze, green eyes and brown, at the ring where it shone on her slender finger, shimmering and dancing under the florescent lights.

It wasn't how Tony had planned it, or anything he had even remotely considered. But somehow it felt right, just like them.

_Put up your little arms / and I'll give them all to you to hold / every finger shall have its ring / and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy_


	6. Gold

**Here's another chapter! Thanks for all the great reviews. Thanks again to my beta AliyahNCIS, for a job well done.  
**

**Gold**

* * *

_Gold/Tarnished and weary, /Awaken! /Melt from weapon to wing! Let us soar again, / High above this wall; /Angels reborn and rejoicing with wings made/Of dawn, /Of gold, /Of dream./Gold,/Singing of wings, /Singing of shadows._

* * *

The window seat was her favorite place to think. Ziva sat there now; watching the light bounce off the gold ring on her left hand as she moved it back and forth. She should have told him no. He should have taken no for an answer the first three times he had asked and she had refused him. She should not have given in to the exhaustion and the tension and said yes.

The truth of the matter was not that she did not love him or not want to marry him or that she could not allow herself to be tied down, reasons people normally gave when they said no. None of those were true. None of the reasons she gave him were true either. The truth was that Ziva David, former Mossad officer and NCIS special agent, was afraid. All the men she had ever loved had been taken painfully away from her, ripped from her life to leave gaping holes that bled and ached.

She was terrified that by making their relationship more than the others had been, he too would be taken from her. It was irrational, she knew. Tony had more lives than a cat. But what if his luck finally ran out? What if she was left alone again in a haze of pain with a broken heart? If she married him, if she said those words half of her longed to say and he died, the pity would kill her faster than the grief. For the pity would mean she had failed to protect him. She was his partner; his life was in her hands. Ziva didn't know if she could shoulder the burden.

After the third time she refused his proposal, the atmosphere in the apartment had been tense. He had not gotten angry. He had not sulked. He had just gotten quiet. It unnerved her. He had gone on long runs, returning covered in sweat. He would shower and then disappear into the living room to watch TV. She would watch with him, usually sports, but he wouldn't speak. It wasn't an angry silence, it was just uncomfortable.

That had lasted for a week. Until the day she had come home and he had made dinner, that familiar grin reaching his eyes again. Then she had put it out of her mind and enjoyed having the man she loved back, without being required to face her fear.

Then had been the car chase. It had not been the most dangerous she had ever been in, but it was close. Not only was she in the car, but McGee was with her, and Ziva couldn't risk injuring him even though she wouldn't hesitate to injure herself if it was necessary to lose the tail. Later, sitting in the emergency room, she was told the suspect had been armed with an automatic weapon and that they were lucky he had not hit either of them, the bullets had only broken glass and shot up the body of the car.

After the doctors were done poking and prodding her, they had left her alone for a few moments, but it had not been enough time to absorb the events of the day. The doctor had brought Tony in since he had been incessantly pestering the staff for information, and he'd leaned against the door, worry and relief clear in those bright green eyes. After checking her over with a look only, the relief strengthened when he saw no serious injuries. She was glad he could not see the knot on the back of her head from when she slammed on the accelerator and her head had crashed into the head rest.

Then Tony surprised her again, proposing without seeming to think about it first. There was something in the fact that he had not planned it, and the frustration and earnestness in those eyes had, for a moment, erased her fear and she said yes. And the ring he had produced was beautiful and fit perfectly, she could not deny it. They spent time talking and dreaming together, and when the doctor had come to ask him to leave, Tony had been very clear that he was not leaving and asked for a cot so he could stay the night.

The doctor returned with a cot and Tony stretched out his long frame with an impish grin and a comment about the quality of the sleeping accommodations. She had smiled back at him, enjoying the lack of tension. The lights in the room had been turned down and Tony was asleep within moments. Ziva on the other hand, had laid awake remembering and questioning her sanity in saying yes, the fear already returning.

That had been two days ago. Yesterday she had come home with strict orders not to show up to work for three days or Gibbs would get doctor's orders that could keep her on desk duty for longer. She relented and Tony had gone into work with her promise to call if she needed anything at all. Today she was bored and had too much time to think. Her thoughts had circled and danced across the spectrum of emotions and finally settled on nervous apprehension.

Ziva was startled out of her reverie by the sound of a phone ringing. She rose from the window seat to answer the call. Abby was on the line and from the sound of it, had consumed at least two cups of Caf-Pow!

"Ziva, Ziva! Are you busy?" came the excited voice across the phone line.

"No. I am sitting at home bored out of my brain," she replied, voice dry.

"Then I am coming to pick you up for lunch. I figured you would be lonely with the Boss-man making you stay home."

"Thank you Abby. Where do you want to go?" Maybe she would be able to ask Abby for advice.

"How about that new Japanese place near your apartment? I heard they have good sushi."

"Fine with me," Ziva replied, glancing at her clothes and deciding she needed to change.

"Great! I will be there in a half an hour." The line went dead, and Ziva replaced the receiver shaking her head at her energetic friend.

The two women sat across from each other at the restaurant Abby had chosen. Each had a plate of sushi in front of her, and Ziva found she had chosen well, the food was delicious. They were talking about everything; office gossip, movies, books they had read - it was just what Ziva had needed, a chance to relax and talk with a friend.

There was a lull in the conversation, and then Abby's expression turned serious. "Ziva, can I have some advice?" the Goth asked.

"What is it Abby?" Ziva replied, wondering what was bothering the other woman.

"Tim…I have been sort of dating him for a while. He wants to make it more serious. I kind of do to, but last time…"

"Last time?" She had not known there had been a last time. She knew there was a history there, but what ever it had been had taken place before she had arrived.

"We ended it because I wasn't ready to commit to a relationship. But I never stopped caring about him."

"Everyone knew that you were jealous over him and he was jealous over you."

Abby smiled. "It was that obvious? This time though, I want to make it last. But I'm still scared."

"What are you scared of?" Ziva's voice was gentle, her heart knowing just how Abby felt.

"That I'll lose him. How can someone like McGee want someone like me?"

Ziva felt like she was talking to herself. "He wants you because you complete him. If he did not want to be with you, why would he be so jealous and protective of you or why would he be dating you again?"

"Good point. I decided a few days ago in the hospital that I would give our relationship my best shot because he means so much to me, but I guess I still needed to hear that. Speaking of which, I saw Tony in the waiting room. He was pacing like a caged tiger and I swear if the doctor hadn't taken him back to see you Tony might have throttled him. There have only been a few times I have seen him so worked up, come to think of it you have usually been involved. Is there something you haven't been telling me?" Abby's face light up and she peered at her friend.

Ziva couldn't help it. She blushed; thinking of all she had not told Abby. It was several years' worth of secrets. "Perhaps…" she said, stalling.

"Spill. I did, now it's your turn," Abby prodded.

So the story came flowing out in a rush of giggles and stories stretching back to Paris. Abby aww'd and sighed in all the right places, giggling as well at all the funny parts. When they reached her acceptance of Tony's proposal, Abby reached out and grabbed her left hand and fawned over the ring where it glimmered against her olive skin.

"You don't seem too happy for a woman who just got engaged to her long time boyfriend," Abby observed.

Ziva smiled wryly, of course Abby would notice. "I feel like you, I suppose. Scared of where this will go."

"Why are _you_ scared?" the forensic scientist echoed Ziva's earlier question.

"I have lost all the others I cared about. Why should Tony be any different?"

"Because Tony loves you and he won't try to get himself killed except maybe to protect you. Why do you think he went to Somalia? You know, he didn't expect to come home. The day after they left I got a letter in the mail with instructions to open it if he didn't come back. Why would he have written it if he planned on coming home? He died inside when Gibbs told us you were dead. It was written all over his face. I don't think he heard much of what any of us said for a long time after. He was just barely functioning. Until the day he stood up to Gibbs he was a zombie. Then we sort of got Tony back, but he was so focused on revenge all the good stuff like his jokes and movie references and pranks were still gone. He only went back to himself when we brought you home. He still gets himself into trouble; he's just like a cat that way. But, like a cat he also has multiple lives. He doesn't do it on purpose anymore."

Ziva sighed. She knew what her friend said was true, but that didn't settle her fears. Abby seemed to sense this and reached out and put her hand on Ziva's shoulder. "Hey," she said, her voice gentle, "Talk to Tony about it. He can't know if you don't tell him."

"Maybe I will," Ziva whispered back.

Ziva was back on her window seat. Her mind was running in circles. Part of her was so tired of being afraid, but the larger part gripped tightly to that fear. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that it took her a moment to realize Tony had arrived home. She could hear him now in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. She stayed in place and kept looking out the window. A few moments later Tony entered the front room. Still, her gaze never left the world outside. He set something down on the coffee table and then stood behind her.

"Scoot," he said, and she obliged. He sat down behind her and she leaned back against him. His long arms looped themselves around her waist. His chin rested on her head, and Ziva relaxed into his embrace. She could hear his heartbeat strong and steady beneath her ear. It was comforting to be held by him.

"How was your day?" Tony asked. She could feel his chest vibrate as he spoke.

"Boring," she replied. "Abby picked me up for lunch, and told me that she and Tim were getting serious." She could feel Tony smile at that.

"I suspected as much. So did you, as I recall. Remember the day we went sledding?"

Ziva smiled too. "Yes, and you threw snow down my jacket."

"You retaliated."

"True." Then they were quiet again, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. It was Tony who broke the silence, asking Ziva what she was thinking about. Ziva remembered Abby's advice to tell Tony about her worries. So she did, and he was kind enough not to interrupt, instead just holding her close. When she had exhausted herself, he was quiet for a few heartbeats more.

Finally he spoke. "Thanks for telling me. I knew you weren't telling me the truth when you said no the first few times." He paused, and then went on. "I understand your point, though. I am not sure what I'd do if I lost you again. But I chose not to let that stop me. You matter more than the fear of what may be. I promise you I will try to stop taking stupid risks."

She twisted in his grip to look into his eyes. She saw sincerity, love and understanding reflected in their green depths. "I am tired of fear," she said quietly.

"Good," Tony said. "I am tired of you fighting me." H gently kissed her, and she knew as he did that he would be there for her. In that moment she decided that he was right, that they mattered more than her fear. So she let it go. It would come back, and she would just keep letting it go. And as he deepened the kiss, she felt resistance melting into love again, and the sun shone into the window, catching her ring and causing it to shine gold, as she felt her spirit begin to soar.

* * *

_Gold/Tarnished and weary, /Awaken! /Melt from weapon to wing! Let us soar again, / High above this wall; /Angels reborn and rejoicing with wings made/Of dawn, /Of gold, /Of dream./Gold,/Singing of wings, /Singing of shadows._

* * *

**This piece was one of the most frustrating to write. But now it is done!**

**Thoughts, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome.**

**-The Lady Grace**


	7. Don't Answer

**Another new chapter! Three in a week, a new record, that's a new record for me. Much credit and thanks to AliyahNCIS for being my beta. **

**Don't Answer**

* * *

_The panther is like a leopard,/Except it hasn't been peppered./If you behold a panther crouch,/Prepare to say Ouch./Better yet, if called by a panther,/Don't answer._

* * *

Anthony D. DiNozzo had decided long ago that it was a good thing he owned his own apartment. It was also a good thing that when the team gathered at someone's home, it was usually Gibbs' place. Most of the time there was no reason for anyone from NCIS to visit his humble abode. Since he was hardly there, this was a very good thing. He went back now and again if he needed something, or to clean out the mailbox, or to just be by himself. Occasionally he and Ziva would go back to spend sometime where they had first truly connected, during the summer he had led the team. They had also spent time at her apartment that Gibbs-less stretch of months, but that apartment was no more, so it was his old one they visited.

This was one such night. After they had been released for the night, she had gone home first and met him at the door with a DVD, pizza and told him they were going to his place this time. His old TV was still there, but not hooked up to cable. They had a nicer TV in their apartment, but this one worked just fine. They were watching a classic, one they both enjoyed, and were cuddled together on his sofa. An empty bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table next to a greasy pizza box with a few crusts and half a slice of pizza. His arm was around her waist; her head lay on his shoulder. His feet were propped up on the table; her feet resting on top of his. He was relaxed and happy. He was with Ziva, they had just had some of his favorite junk food and they were watching one the best movies of all time. What could go wrong?

It was the car lights that first alerted them to trouble. They washed across his living room windows, creating strange patterns on the wall. The lights were followed by the sound of the car stopping, the engine dying and the lights turning off.

Ziva sat up, untangling herself from him. "What should we do?" she hissed at him.

"Go hide in the bathroom. If it's someone not from work, you can come back out," he whispered back.

"Why do I have to hide? What if it is someone from work?" she asked as she got to her feet.

"You have to hide so I can keep my head! We'll figure it out. Go!" he said, standing too and giving her a little shove in the direction of the bathroom. The glare he got in return said quite clearly that under normal circumstances he would have paid dearly for that. She went regardless, and Tony returned to his seat on the couch to wait for the doorbell to ring, the apprehension growing with every second that passed.

Finally, the bell rang. Tony got back to his feet and walked to the door, hoping the person on the other side wasn't Abby…or worse, Gibbs. When he looked through the peephole and saw none other than Palmer, he breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his front door, and before he could even ask why the Autopsy Gremlin was there, Palmer began to speak.

"Uh…hi, Tony. You umm…forgot these at work…" Palmer lifted his left hand, which held an object which looked suspiciously like a pair of Tony's rolled up socks. "I found them underneath your desk. I wasn't snooping, I promise! I just needed to check one of the files from the filing cabinet and they were right there, so I brought them over…"

"Couldn't this have waited until morning, Palmer?" Tony asked, annoyance spilling into his voice.

"I suppose so, but I was in the neighborhood so I stopped over…did I interrupt something?" Palmer asked.

"No," Tony lied, and then said, "Can I have my socks so you can leave and I can go back to enjoying my night off?" Palmer handed over the socks, and Tony gave a sarcastic wave goodbye before turning around and shutting the door behind him. He walked back toward the couch, calling to Ziva that they were clear. "How did these socks end up under my desk anyway?" he mumbled to himself.

"How did what end up under your desk?" Ziva asked as she settled herself back into her place next to him.

"Don't ask." Tony replied.

He was awakened by a slap to the back of his head. He turned his head to see Gibbs standing beside the couch where Tony lay, Ziva still asleep on his chest. Gibbs stared down at them, eyes and face expressionless, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Uh…hi Boss. If I may ask, what are you doing in my living room?" Tony whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping Ziva.

"Case. Tried to call, no answer. On either phone. You gave me the key," Gibbs answered in his normal fragments.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Ya think, Dinozzo?"

"I plead the 18th."

"I think you mean the 5th."

"No, I mean the 18th. 'It is better to seek forgiveness than permission'"

Gibbs actually smiled a bit at that, and it gave Tony the courage to go on. "She means the world to me, Boss. When I thought she was gone, when we went to Africa, I didn't plan on coming back. But seeing her alive gave me the will to come home. I love her."

"Okay."

"'Cause I know you have Rule 12 for a reason and I know it's because of you and Jenny and I promise it will be different with Ziva and I and…" Tony babbled, nervous, not hearing Gibbs' answer.

"Tony, I said 'Okay'. Just keep it out of the office," Gibbs interrupted.

"Really Boss?"

"Really."

Ziva had slept through it all, snuggled against Tony's chest, oblivious to the presence of their boss and the crisis that had just been averted. Tony relaxed, hardly able to believe that after all this time, Gibbs knew and they both still had their jobs.

"Thanks. By the way, I asked her to marry me," Tony added, trying to gauge the older man's reaction.

"Well, what did she say?"

"She said yes." The joy at that pronouncement was quiet in the Senior Field Agent's voice, but it was there, and neither man had any doubt of the sincerity of Tony's feelings for the woman asleep on his chest.

"How did it happen?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, Boss, you see…"

"Don't answer."

* * *

_The panther is like a leopard,/Except it hasn't been peppered./If you behold a panther crouch,/Prepare to say Ouch./Better yet, if called by a panther,/Don't answer._

* * *

**And thus, this one-shot ends. Gibbs knows and no one lost their heads!  
**

**This was inspired by Eric Whitacre, a new car, and a cool fall evening.**

**-The Lady Grace**


	8. Sweetest

**This is the one that started it all…I was listening to this and I got an image in my head of Tony and Ziva and this series was born. Even if no one reads this, I am glad I wrote it. It gives me joy to combine beautiful music with wonderful characters.**

**Thanks again to my beta, AliyahNCIS, for the work done on my oneshots. **

**Sweetest**

* * *

_May these vows and this marriage be blessed. /May it be sweet milk,/ this marriage, like wine and halvah. / May this marriage offer fruit and shade / like the date palm. / May this marriage be full of laughter, / our every day a day in paradise._

* * *

Standing beneath the bows of two large oak trees, a man and a woman stood facing each other, oblivious to all those around them, and promised to one another all that had already been given. Love and loyalty, to have each other's six no matter what: to death and after; to paraphrase a bit.

Around them stood only a few blood relatives, but they were joined also by their true family - the ones who had stood by them when all others had abandoned them, who had been on their side even against the highest odds.

The bride was resplendent in a white gown, tastefully decorated with beading on the bodice and embroidery on the hem. The groom was dashing in a black tux like his hero: Bond, James Bond.

There was only the maid of honor and the best man standing up for their friends. The maid of honor was dressed in a deep red, floor length dress, elbow length black lace gloves, her customary parasol, and a black ribbon necklace on which hung a ruby pendant. The best man also wore a tux, his hair neatly combed, eyes only for the maid of honor.

A man with silver hair sat in the first row, sporting a black tux as well, pride in his eyes for the couple saying their vows. He had given the bride away, for she was as much his daughter as the child of his who had never lived long enough to marry.

Also present were an old Scotsman and his trustworthy assistant, former teammates and police officers, FBI agents, and a few of the families who had stayed in touch with the teams whose lives had touched theirs. A little girl who could not see but could hear amazingly well came with her mother. The family of a young boy who many said resembled a younger version of the groom. And in the back, a black man in a suit, chewing a toothpick and smiling, sat watching his agents wed.

The vows, both said and unsaid, were completed. The couple exchanged rings and shared a brief but perfect kiss. They were presented as a married couple for the first time to the assembled guests, and then everyone filtered into the reception hall while the couple and attendants, 'father' of the bride included, posed for the required pictures.

They didn't mind too much, for these shots were far more pleasant than those their jobs required them to take on a regular basis. This first, but not last, wedding photo would now join such memorable snapshots as the Marilyn Monroe Halloween costume, the Paris postcard photograph, and many candid crime scene moments. And it seemed, to the bride at least, that her maid of honor would want to catch the bouquet this evening

Following the group photos were dinner and speeches. Many who spoke told funny and embarrassing stories about the newly joined man and wife. But the two most memorable speeches came from the maid of honor and father of the bride.

It was rare that the silver haired man spoke in front of crowds more than to give orders, He had never given a speech at any of his award ceremonies, he had rarely even been present at them. But this time he did. He spoke of meeting the newlyweds, of their partnership and their commitments to each other. And he told of the fatherly feelings he had towards both, lastly wishing them better luck in marriage than he ever had.

The maid of honor read a poem she had come across, a poem of hope for marriage, which spoke of love and laughter and everyday being paradise. Later that night, she also caught the bouquet. The best man caught the garter. He proposed on the dance floor holding a ring set with a black onyx.

And then after the respective first dances, the couple left on their honeymoon to a beach in an undisclosed location, and when they returned, there would be no tan lines. As they left, the best man and maid of honor stood side by side, arms around each other, and silently whispered the poem again, blessing their friends' marriage and their own hopes for the future.

* * *

_May these vows and this marriage be blessed. /May it be sweet milk,/ this marriage, like wine and halvah. / May this marriage offer fruit and shade / like the date palm. / May this marriage be full of laughter, / our every day a day in paradise._


	9. Homecoming

**One-shot number 9 already!**

**I have to give a lot of credit to AliyahNCIS, my beta, for this piece. It wouldn't be as good without you.  
**

** Enjoy!**

* * *

_With a lily in your hand/I leave, o my night love!/Little widow of my single star/I find you./Tamer of dark butterflies!/I keep along my way./After a thousand years are gone/  
you'll see me, o, my night love!_

* * *

There were lilies on her desk. Why were there lilies on her desk? Who had sent them? Did they know that lilies were her favorite? All of these questions assaulted Ziva as she walked into work that morning. She walked into the squad room, where nothing else was unusual except for the bouquet of flowers. They smelled wonderful! She did not see a card, so she had no idea who had left them for her. The only person who would have sent them was….but no. It couldn't have been him. He had been gone for months. There was no way that he could have sent the beautiful flowers. But she wished he had. She missed him so much, and it seemed like an eternity until she would see him again.

She was still staring at the flowers when Gibbs and McGee arrived, both carrying a coffee. McGee had an extra cup in his hand. He sent it down carefully in front of her, and she grasped the white cup emblazoned with the familiar logo. She brought it to her face and inhaled, it was her favorite tea. She sipped the hot brew, watching her co-workers. They were standing by Gibbs' desk, exchanging whispers too quiet for her to hear.

"Are you two sharing secrets?" she asked the two men. McGee started, blushing, but Gibbs was as stoic as ever. McGee moved to his desk and Gibbs booted up his computer. Ziva glanced at her inbox and sighed, there was paperwork. She hated paperwork. It had piled up in recent months with the caseload they had received, not only murders but some robberies as well. The other team assigned to similar cases was in transition, as the leader had retired and there wasn't yet a replacement to take over his position, so Gibbs' team had picked up the slack.

She set to work, ignoring her teammates. They were now exchanging instant messages; she could hear the soft tones made as new messages appeared on their screens. They were up to something, Ziva knew, but what she had no idea. She had a gut feeling, as Gibbs would put it, that it had something to do with her. She also knew that she should be remembering something, but she could not figure out what it was. She mentally went over her morning to see if she had missed something. No, that was not it. She had not forgotten anything in her daily routine. No appointments had been missed, nothing was out of the ordinary. Ziva shook herself; she was getting worked up over nothing. She continued on with her work, wanting to leave early so she could go to the gym, just like she did every Thursday when they didn't have a case.

After a few hours, Ziva was brought out of the zone of her work when her own computer chimed. It was a message from Abby. The forensic scientist wanted to know if Ziva would join her for lunch, claiming it had been much too long since they had shared a meal. Ziva knew her friend was exaggerating; it had only been a week. She said as much in her reply, but agreed to go out and suggested a new Thai place she'd heard about but not tried yet. Abby came back with the order to meet her in ten minutes and tell Gibbs they would be back in an hour and a half, because Abby was taking her shopping.

Rising for her chair, Ziva told Gibbs she was leaving for lunch, and he just looked up and told her to be sure she returned in two hours or they would send out a search party, the cost of which would come out of her pay. Ziva shook her head as she grabbed her things and went toward the elevator. It seemed Gibbs would never let her forget the time she had been suffering through a day at work with the flu, determined not to miss anything. She had gone home for lunch and a short nap, and had been awoken four hours later by an unhappy and worried Gibbs. Since then he reminded her to always come back to work.

When the elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open, they revealed the happy Goth who was the resident forensics expert. Ziva stepped inside, and pushed the button for the lobby.

"So tell me about this Thai place," were the first words out of Abby's mouth when the doors were closed and the elevator started to descend.

"All I know is that the food is supposed to be good and the atmosphere is relaxing," Ziva replied, checking for her keys as she spoke.

"Who suggested it?" was the next question.

"My neighbor. She returned the favor after I suggested a better pizza place when her delivery came to my door, more than an hour late."

"Who gave you the lilies on your desk? They're nice."

"What is this, twenty questions? No, I do not know who sent them, there was no note."

"That's too bad. Someone, it seems, went to a lot of trouble to send you flowers at work."

"And I have no idea who."

"You will find out soon enough."

"How?"

"They will send more." Abby had a smug smile on her face, and Ziva wanted to elbow her for finding this so amusing. She wanted to know who the flowers were from so she could figure out how to react to them.

The elevator reached their destination floor, and the two women stepped out after the doors had opened.

"Can I drive with you?" Abby asked. "My hearse has a flat. Again."

"Yes, but I am driving."

* * *

"Your neighbor was right, that was _delicious__,_" Abby said, sitting back in her chair, having just eaten every morsel on her plate.

Ziva smiled. "I enjoyed it too. Now, you mentioned something about shopping? I would rather we just go back to work, I want to finish my paperwork."

Abby shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest. "Nuh-uh, missy. We are going shopping."

"But I do not need anything!" Ziva protested, leaning forward.

"Yes you do!" Abby shot back. "You wear the same clothes all the time! You never go out anymore with the rest of us. You need new pretty work clothes. You'll feel better."

"Abby, the only new clothes I need are workout clothes. I do not need resale therapy."

"C'mon, please? Can we at least go shoe shopping?" Abby pleaded.

Ziva glared at her friend and co-worker. It was hard to deny the younger woman anything. She could use some new boots….

* * *

"How did we get from only shoe shopping to three entire outfits?" asked the incredulous Ziva as they carried their purchases to Ziva's car.

"Oh c'mon Ziva, admit it, you had a good time. Those black slacks look like they were made for you, and that red scoop neck? You'll have to keep the men away with the stapler."

"Then why are you insisting I wear them back to the office? I looked just fine in my own clothes."

"Trust me, it'll be worth it. The confidence boost of new, pretty clothes will make your day better."

"Oh yes, the paperwork will be so impressed." Ziva replied sarcastically.

Changing the subject, Abby asked "When we get back to the Navy Yard, will you help me carry my stuff down to my lab?"

Ziva wasn't surprised Abby had asked for help. The forensic scientist had bought more than she had. "Sure Abby, but why not take the bags straight to your car?"

"I have a flat, remember? The dealer has my car to repair it; they said they would have it back here by the end of the day."

"I will take mine down too, I do not want them near my desk. They will be too distracting when I am trying to work."

"Sounds like a plan!" Abby said enthusiastically. "You can come down and grab them after work."

Back at the navy yard, Abby and Ziva had to get their new clothes in the building, through security, and into the elevator. Ziva let Abby explain in her bubbly way why they had to bring all these clothes into NCIS headquarters.

Down the elevator went, and then they were out of the elevator and carrying the bags to the lab.

It was all dark, she couldn't see a thing. Then, all at once, lights came on and many familiar voices said in unison, "Happy Birthday Ziva!"

Ziva could not believe what she was seeing. All her friends from NCIS were there: the team, other agents she had befriended over the years, Ducky and Palmer, the Director. Even Nicki Jardine, the germaphobe from Counter-Intelligence, had come. She saw Fornell off in a corner, grinning. Abby's lab was covered in streamers, and a banner hung from the ceiling which read _Happy__Birthday__Ziva_ at the top in bright red and blue letters. Something was scrawled underneath it in handwriting she recognized as Gibbs':_Whether__you__like__it__or__not_. Ziva had to smile and wonder why they did this in the same heartbeat. She did not realize she had spoken that question aloud until it was answered.

"Because that is what friends do," Abby said, coming and giving Ziva one of her trademark bear hugs.

"And it's what teams do," McGee added, standing behind Abby and smiling in his quiet way.

"Because you're ours now, my dear," continued Ducky, looking pleased.

"This is what family does," Gibbs said, standing next to McGee. Ziva could see the pride shining in his eyes.

"Because we love you Ziva, that's why."

The final words came from behind her, and for an instant, Ziva did not know who had spoken. Then she recognized the voice and her head told her that it couldn't be him, that it wasn't possible, but her heart said it was. When she turned there he stood, much as he had looked when he said goodbye months before, except his hair was longer and his skin was dark from so many weeks at sea, the same man she had missed so desperately, framed by the doorway into Abby's lab, holding a lily in his hands.

Dropping the bags, she ran toward him, no, she flew, her feet barely touching the ground. "Tony? Tony!" she cried as he caught her, his arms strong and comforting. She buried her face in his chest, he smelled so good, like Tide and soap and just a hint of his shaving cream. Ziva clung to him, and he held her tightly in return. He was home, at last.

Finally, she let go so she could look up into his eyes. They had not changed, they were still the same warm green she remembered. "Why did you not tell me you were coming home? That your deployment was over?"

Tony chuckled. "I did, Zee-vah. I reminded you in the last letter I sent. But we both know military mail is slow. I take it you haven't gotten it yet?"

Ziva blushed. "I have not been keeping track of the dates."

"I can tell. The calendar is two months behind. Did you even remember today was your birthday?"

Ziva shook her head, blushing harder. "I did not like the reminder of all the days between now and when you were coming home, so I stopped using the calendar."

"It's a good thing you did, because it allowed us to plan this little party."

"Us?" Ziva turned in his arms to see all of the gathered friends grinning back at them, letting her know she was the only one who had been unaware. She glared at them, and then felt Tony's left hand shift, and realized he was holding something in it. She reached behind her and gripped it, pulling forward the lily.

"That's for you. Do you remember how the day before I left I gave you a bouquet of 11 lilies and I promised you the last one when I came home? Well, here it is." He had a sheepish grin on his face and Ziva smiled at him. "Do you like it?" he asked softly. She stood on her on her toes and whispered, her mouth close to his.

"Yes."

Then she kissed him, for the first time in six months, and it was one of the best she had ever had. She became aware of comments being made behind them, and when they stopped, he whispered, "Let's give the peanut gallery something to comment on." When she nodded, he kissed her again, and then bent her backward in a dramatic kiss like out of one of his movies. When the whistles started, Tony straightened her up and released her, then plucked the lily from her fingers and placed it in her hair. She smiled at him, and they went to the crowd of happy people.

Abby got everyone's attention and announced that there was cake and other various party foods to be eaten, and there was a rush for the food. Ziva stood back, watching, when she felt one strong arm snake around her waist, the other holding a plate with a piece of cake in front of her. She took it from him, and he smiled at her and kissed her gently. "Happy birthday," he whispered.

"Welcome home," she whispered back. Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. They stood like that for a moment, and she knew he was just about to kiss her again when she felt a hand make contact with the back of her head.

"Just because you two are married and he just got back from six months as agent afloat doesn't mean that you two get a free pass in the office. Don't let me see either of you until Monday after Abby lets us leave," Gibbs told them, and Ziva could hear him trying not to smile.

* * *

_With a lily in your hand/I leave, o my night love!/Little widow of my single star/I find you./Tamer of dark butterflies!/I keep along my way./After a thousand years are gone/  
you'll see me, o, my night love!/_

* * *

**This one-shot is my longest not for school writing yet. I got stuck somewhere around the second page of my Word document, and I figured it would be short, and then the rabid fluff bunny attacked and this was the result.**

**-The Lady Grace**


	10. Pictures and Memories

**This takes place before and during Homecoming, the pervious one-shot, but from the perspective of everyone's favorite Senior Field Agent.**

**This is inspired by the song Temuna which is Hebrew for a picture. **

**Thanks again to my beta AliyahNCIS  
**

**Pictures and Memoires**

* * *

_A picture is engraved in my heart;/Moving between light and darkness:/A sort of silence envelopes your body,/And your hair falls upon your face just so._

* * *

He had looked at the picture so many times he didn't even need to look anymore. He had it imprinted in his mind. No, it was more than that. It was engraved on his heart. The picture held in his hands was worn around the edges from so many times of being taken out of his pocket to look at in quiet moments, what quiet moments there were to be had on a floating city of 5000.

Again, he was an Agent Afloat on the orders of the Director of NCIS. Again, he desperately wanted to go home and used pictures of the one woman who kept him sane to assuage the loneliness when he could. But this time was different in one major way. When his six months were over and his carrier returned to port, he would not have to wonder what the future held. His place on Gibbs' team was secure; there was no worry over that.

More importantly there was less worry over Ziva this time. Oh, he still worried. But he knew she would be watched over by his team and Abby. Ah yes, Abby would watch and worry over Ziva enough for both herself and Ziva's absent partner.

Tony glanced from the picture in his hands to the pile of letters wedged between his bed and the wall, letters sent from home, and the ones he was writing in reply. The letters were helping too. He slipped the picture back into his pocket and went to his bed, picking up the letters. Letters from Abby, McGee, Ducky, even one from Gibbs. He smiled as he looked at the letter from his boss. This one had come at the three month point, widely acknowledged as the hardest part of a deployment. The letter was brief, as suited the team leader, and encouraged him and gave him advice on how to handle the remaining time. Abby sent letters regularly, arriving at least once a week. Her letters were full of news from home, of office gossip, and interesting stories from the week's cases. McGee wrote now and again, telling the news the forensic scientist omitted; sports and politics news, and information that McGee thought Tony would find funny that Abby hadn't been privy too. Tony replied to all of McGee's letters, had replied to the one from Gibbs, and one in three of Abby's, simply because she sent so many.

Separate from the rest, tied together with a dark blue hairband were the letters he had received from Ziva. These letters, more than the rest, were wearing out from being read again and again. He replied to every one of her letters, so she would send another and he would get to hear her voice as he read the words she had written.

He took out the picture again, and was about to look over the familiar image when he was summoned. An agent's work was never done.

* * *

Here he was, yet again, in the closet he called his quarters, looking at her picture. He had gotten to talk to her on the phone for ten wonderful minuets, getting to hear her magnificent voice and her dark laughter. The deployment couldn't be over soon enough. True, there were those who liked the job of Agent Afloat and were sent out whenever the carrier went. In Tony's not so humble opinion; those agents were more than off their rockers. They should be locked up or on medication. Who wanted to spend more than a few days packed in like sardines in a can with sailors who didn't know the meaning of soap and pilots who were to busy risking their necks to bother with the rules. Granted, the agents who made carriers home clearly enjoyed the pace of carrier life, and most likely had very few ties stateside, so they had little to homesick about. Tony was not one of those men. He had a family back home (albeit a very unusual one), a job he enjoyed, and he was not too fond of the sea. He much preferred dry land.

Abby had screamed in his ear when she had picked up, and the only reason she had relinquished him was he asked for Ziva. Anyone else would have had to fight the woman Tony looked at like the sister he never had for the phone.

Now it would be some time until he could call again, and the letters had been delayed recently. How he hated military mail!

* * *

One week. Seven days. 168 hours. 10,068 minuets. 604,800 seconds. A veritable eternity of time. It would be the longest week of his life. The carrier was one week out of the port and the end of the deployment, and all over the ship, the Agent Afloat included, was counting down with more excitement then had been felt since leaving Norfolk. For Tony, it was one week until he could be home, with his family and with Ziva. Ziva. The fact that the end was in sight only made his missing of her sharper. Abby had something up her sleeve for his homecoming that much was clear, and it seemed everyone was in on it but his wife. He had been told (ordered) not to say word about how soon he was going to be home to her, and not to mention her birthday, which fell on the day the carrier returned. Arrangements were being made for both occasions, and he was not to wonder about what they were lest Ziva read his thoughts. He had chuckled when Abby had said that to him over the phone, until she had scolded him for it. She could make him feel bad even over the phone.

He needed to figure out how to get something to Ziva on her birthday before she got home without letting the cat out of the bag. But what could he get that would let he know he was thinking of her and wishing her a happy birthday without getting her guard up. What wouldn't she expect?

He took one of the pictures from his bulletin board without really seeing it. He was still staring at it when one of the sailors whom he had befriended came in. He was Petty Officer Ben Gregory, and Tony had met him at one of the movie nights. Tony had been sitting by himself, trying to unwind. The man had come over, and had quoted the movie in introducing himself. The two men had become friends, especially because Ben stayed well out of trouble. Ben also had pictures he kept with him and the two shared stories of past deployments, one in Tony's case, three in Ben's.

Tony looked up at the tall man, and asked if he had knocked with a wry grin.

"No, I just decided to kick down the door," the sailor replied, and then noticed the picture and asked, "That's a new one. When was that taken?"

Tony looked down at the photo, seeing which one it was. "It's from my going-away party…"

* * *

_Tony was slightly dazed at all of the people who had shown up to wish him a good six months at sea. It made him all the more aware he really was leaving in two days. Last time he had been on the ship almost before he had known what hit him. This time there had been time to adjust to how long he was going to be gone, almost too much. Abby had thrown this party and Gibbs had allowed them to use his house, mostly since he was the only person on the team with a grill. Tony had been on the main floor where the party was for the last few hours, and now he had managed to escape to the basement for a moment to himself. _

_The steps creaked as Ziva descended them. She looked beautiful as always. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a green shirt that set off her olive skin tone very well. Her face was sad, she was just as unhappy as he was if not more about his looming departure. He watched her as she reached the bottom step and walked across the concrete floor. He patted the bench beside him and she sat down heavily. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead. _

"_Why do you have to leave?" she whispered, even though she knew the answer._

"_Because I can't lose my job, we need the money."_

"_I know." She sighed. "But I want you to stay here with me. The apartment will be too quiet with you gone. Who else will I nag not to leave his socks on the floor and not drink straight out of the milk jug?"_

"_But other than those things, there is no other reason you want me to stay." He was teasing her, he couldn't help himself. _

"_Plus I will miss you." Her face was turned up towards his. He lowered his face to meet hers and whispered quietly that he would miss her too. He had just been about to kiss her when Abby had thundered down the poor stairs, her boots clunking on each step. She shouted at them the guest of honor could not disappear and that if they didn't come up soon all the hot dogs would be gone. Ziva made a face as Tony shouted at her they would be up in a moment. Abby just raised an eyebrow, and then turned and ran up the stairs, oblivious to the groans the boards made._

"_She is right, we should go back up," Ziva said, sounding none too pleased._

"_One moment," he said, turning and retrieved something he had hidden down here. He had planned to give the flowers to her later, but he decided now was good. He turned his head and told her to cover her eyes, he had a surprise for her. She complained, but complied. When she was ready, he brought the flowers forward and set them in her lap._

_She opened her eyes and gasped, "Oh, Tony, these are my favorite!" The lilies glowed even in the murky light coming in from dirty windows. _

"_You'll notice in a moment after you count them that there are only 11 lilies there."_

"_Why?" she asked, the puzzlement clear in her eyes._

"_You get the last one when I come home."_

_Tears gathered in her dark eyes, but she smiled at him and threw her arms around his neck. "They are lovely. Thank you," she whispered._

_He grinned at her as she pulled back. "You are very welcome."_

* * *

Abby had taken the picture after they had left the basement, shortly after Tony had stuck one of the flowers in her hair. Ziva had protested, saying she didn't look good with flowers in her hair, but no one had listened. The picture had been in the gift Abby had shoved in his hands as she said good-bye before he boarded the ship.

Tony told the short version to his friend while he worked on the idea of what to get Ziva. He mentioned his conundrum to Ben, and had to laugh when Ben suggested flowers. He then realized that he could send Ziva flowers, and if she really had forgot he was coming home, as Abby and Gibbs seemed to think she had, it would confuse her to no end and distract her from other things that didn't add up. He thanked his friend, and then the sailor left, and Tony was left to figure out how to tell Abby his idea.

* * *

Tony had never been so glad to see his boss in his life. As he worked his way through the throng of sailors, pilots and their families toward Gibbs, he couldn't stop grinning. Abby's plan was coming off without a hitch. Abby had taken the task of distracting his wife while Gibbs came to Norfolk to meet the carrier and get the returning agent back to DC without Ziva realizing he had left. Gibbs shook his hand and asked him how the sea was and Tony just made a face. The two men turned and made their way to the car Gibbs had driven down to Norfolk. Tony threw his stuff in the trunk and then went around to the passenger side. He made sure to buckle in tight; there was no way Gibbs driving the speed limit to get back to the Navy Yard in time.

Boss and senior field agent talked on the highway back to DC, the former telling the news since the final letters had been sent, the latter telling about the six months at sea.

* * *

Now Tony was waiting, hiding in a service staircase off of the hallway near the forensic lab, waiting for his cue. He had been in DC again for less than a half-hour, just enough time to drop off his things at home and get a quick change of clothes. Abby and Ziva weren't back yet from Abby's distraction trip, and the final preparations were underway for the imminent party. He twirled the lily in his fingers, admiring the color. At least he was home.

The elevator dinged and he heard Abby and Ziva heading toward him. Tony risked a peek out of the small window to see Ziva go by, looking impatient. Oh, she was so beautiful, even with an exasperated expression on her face. He didn't recognize the outfit she wore, but it was perfect for her. He waited, cracking the door so he could hear. When he heard the shouts of "Happy Birthday", he counted fifteen more seconds, and then left the stairs and turned the corner. There, inside the lab Ziva stood, and he could tell be the way she stood she was defiantly surprised. He listened to the team telling her why they had thrown her a party, leaning against the door way, waiting for the right moment to alert her to his presence.

Now was the right time. "Because we love you Ziva," he said, and she turned, surprise anew in her face. She ran at him, and he straightened and caught her. It was so good to have her in his arms again.

* * *

The party was over at long last. Abby had thrown a good party, but Tony was longing for his soft bed and someone to share it with. As they trickled out, people welcomed home and said a last happy birthday to the beautiful woman beside him. She was tired too, he could tell. Abby came and stood before them, her hands on her hips. "What are you two still doing here?" she demanded, a semi-serious expression on her face. They took her cue and headed for the door.

In the elevator, he leaned against her, exhausted to the very core of his being, and then they walked into the car garage, holding hands. Ziva shoved him into the passenger seat before taking the wheel.

"We have the next few days off, right?" he said, as he buckled his seatbelt. As much as he loved his wife, he wanted to survive the trip home.

"What were you thinking about doing?" Ziva asked, one manicured eyebrow arched in question.

"How does everything I couldn't do at sea sound?" Tony suggested with a trademark grin.

* * *

He was in his bed, a real bed, for the first time in much too long. Ziva was getting ready for bed, and he was admiring the view, while trying not to fall asleep. He must have fallen asleep, for a few minutes later Ziva was shaking him awake and asking him about the picture that must have slipped out of his pocket. It was well worn now, and slightly bent from all the times he had held it.

"When was this taken?" she asked.

"Abby took it."

"Abby, of course. She would do something like this."

Tony grinned. "I'm glad she did. It helped keep me sane."

"You're sane?"

"Touché"

"Why this picture?" she asked, her voice quiet.

He looked at it for a moment. "Because it was the happiest day of my life."

The picture in her hand was taken on their wedding day. It showed Ziva sitting in her wedding dress in a window seat, bare feet peaking out from under the white satin. She was looking out the window, the light falling on her so her face was illuminated and her olive skin stood out against the white of the dress. Her hair was in his favorite style, rippling down and loose, spilling over her shoulders. There was a quietness in her in this photo, a reflectiveness present in her nature that did not show itself often. It was the most beautiful photo he had of her.

"I have this picture memorized by now," he whispered as she set the photo down on the bedside table and crawled in beside him.

"I have a picture of you just as worn," Ziva murmured against his lips. "It is engraved on my heart."

* * *

_A picture is engraved in my heart;/Moving between light and darkness:/A sort of silence envelopes your body,/And your hair falls upon your face just so._

* * *

**And so we come to the end of another one-shot. I personally think that if Tony ever becomes an Agent Afloat again, someone might just lose a limb.**

**Let me know what you think, feedback is very welcome.**

**Until next time,**

**-The Lady Grace**


	11. Dreams

**I can hardly believe we are on number 11 already! Thanks so very much to the reviews I have gotten from you wonderful readers, they always make my day.**

**Thanks again to** **AliyahNCIS**, **my beta.**

**11: Dreams**

* * *

_The rain awakens … /We must sleep with open eyes /We must dream with our hands/we must dream dreams of active rivers/ Searching for their cause/Dreams of the sun/dreaming of its worlds / we must dream aloud/ we must sing till the song /casts roots, /trunks, branches, birds, stars, /we must unearth the lost word,/and remember._

* * *

"What do you dream about?"

Ziva looked up from the book in her lap to her husband who sat at the other end of the couch they were sharing. He had her feet in her lap, and even though his eyes were intent on her face, his hands hadn't stopped rubbing her swollen ankles.

"Why do you ask, Tony? That question was into the blue," Ziva focused her attention on him, curious about the odd question.

He smiled. "It's 'out of the blue' Ziva, and I just remembered how when I was a boy, my mom always used to say that rain was for dreams, that when it rained, it made the world so peaceful that it was the perfect time to dream. She meant a soft, steady rain, not the downpour of a storm."

They both looked out their large living room window, to where rain fell steadily, making rivers down the window panes and glistening on the plants. It had been falling all morning, it was the reason they were on the couch relaxing rather than taking a walk. It was a tradition they had made, to do on Saturdays when they were not working. For a few moments, both watched the rain fall, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Tony spoke again, his voice quiet, "You never did answer my question, Ziva. What are you dreaming about?"

Her eyes went back to him. "A lot of things, I guess," she said, bringing her hands to rest on her swollen stomach. "The baby, for sure. Just think, in about four months, we will have a child." Her smile was small and pleased, his answer was a grin. "I dream of holding them, and watching them grow."

"Me too. I dream of being a better father than I had." Tony's voice was quiet, almost sad.

Ziva reached out, and grabbed his hand. "I have no doubt you will. Just think, this child will have Gibbs wrapped around their finger, especially if it is a girl. She will get whatever she wants."

Tony chuckled. "Ducky will have someone to tell his stories to."

"Abby is so excited to be 'Aunty Abby'"

"That's fine, as long as she doesn't give a weird black stuffed animal to the baby."

"Would you accept a stuffed hippo?"

He laughed again. He grinned mischievously, and he grabbed her left foot from where it had been resting in his lap. He stripped off her sock, and gently tickled the sole of her foot. She squirmed, giggling, trying to free her foot, and kicked him lightly in his chest. "Tony!" she shrieked, laughing at the same time. "Stop tickling me!"

"What if I don't want to?"

He kept tickling her, and he used her ankle to pull her closer to him. He tickled her, and even though she shrieked, he kept going. Ziva was protesting, but not too much. It was kind of fun to have him tickling her and laughing together. Soon, she was in his lap, he was still tickling her, and she was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.

"Please, Tony!" she gasped in between laughs, "I need to breathe."

"Alright, on one condition…."

"What?"

"You tell me what else you were dreaming about."

Ziva turned to glare at him. "You just will not drop it! You are like a dog with a chew toy or Gibbs with his gut!"

"That is silly, Zee-vah. I just want to hear your dreams. If you like, I can tell you what I was dreaming about."

"If you would be so kind."

"I was dreaming about the baby, and teaching them to play sports, like football…"

"Even if the baby is a girl?" Ziva interrupted.

"Who says girls can't play football?" Tony shot back.

"Should I not be the one saying that?" Ziva asked, giggling again.

"If we were normal. But, thankfully Ziva, we are not normal. Normal men would not have fallen in love with a beautiful woman who could kill him many ways. Normal women wouldn't have seen behind the jokes and juvenile ways to the real man." His voice had become serious, but tender.

"We could never be normal."

"So the baby is doomed to be unusual."

"Without a doubt. After all, look at the people who will help us raising them. We have Abby…"

"Who couldn't be normal if she tried." Tony interrupted this time.

Ziva glared at him and then continued, "We also have McGee. He is pretty normal."

"Are you kidding? McGoo will have taught our child how to hack the government before age ten."

Both parents-to-be laughed at the image of a ten year old hacking into classified government information. Ziva went on, "Plus, Gibbs and Ducky, are here to help too."

"Ducky will have someone besides Palmer to tell his stories to."

"He is looking forward to it. Our child will be well rounded."

"Maybe," Tony said, smiling at his wife, "but they might get made fun of in school."

"They will be able to take care of themselves. Just like their father."

"Flatterer. You just want me to go out and buy more of that coffee cake ice cream you like so much and Ducky doesn't want you to have."

Ziva looked up at him from under her eyelashes up at him. "Would you please? It tastes so good."

"No, I won't." He smiled at her as she pouted. "Do I spy my Ziva pouting? I though they trained the pouting out of you."

"I was not 'pouting'," she lifted her hands and did air-quotes around the word.

"Were too. I saw you. You had your lip stuck out and everything."

Ziva chose not to reply, and instead she leaned back against his chest. His arms tightened around her again, and he rested his chin on her forehead.

"Did you ever think we could end up like this? Married with a baby on the way?" Tony said quietly as they both stared out into the rain again, still falling steadily. Ziva didn't answer right away, and they both just sat there, comfortable, watching the rain.

"I hoped, down deep inside, not that I would have admitted it, but I did. I could not help it, especially after Somalia. I had feelings for you long before that, but there was Jeanne, and then Michael, I was not sure if it would ever be the right time."

"But then there was Paris."

"Yes, Paris." They both smiled at the memory. "We have more than Paris. We didn't leave it there."

"Best decision I ever made, besides asking you to marry me."

"Best decision I ever made was saying yes."

He kissed the back of her neck gently. She was about to turn around so she could kiss him properly when her stomach growled.

"I think that means I had best feed the two most important people in my life."

"Yes, you should. You could go get that ice cream."

"Not a chance."

* * *

**That took me three tries to write, but I like how it turned out. Let me know what you think!**

**-The Lady Grace**

Dear Freud,

I think we should discuss that whole "Oedipus Complex" thing you came up with...

Sincerely, Mom.


	12. Precious

__**Only a few left now, which is sad, but these are some of my favorites, so it's not so bad. Thanks, as always to my awesome beta, AliyahNCIS, for all the work done on these one-shots.**

**12: Precious  
**

* * *

_Light, / warm and heavy as pure gold / and angels sing softly / to the new-born babe._

* * *

Tony had seen many unpleasant sights in his years; first as a cop and then as a NCIS Special Agent. More blood, guts, and severed limbs than he cared to recall. But the moments he wanted to remember were relatively few. The scene before him was one of them. He was watching intently, trying to ingrain the sight into memory.

His wife Ziva lay in a hospital bed, dark hair plastered to her head with sweat, exhaustion clear in her eyes, but the largest smile he could ever remember seeing on her face. She was gazing down into a small pink bundle she cradled against her chest. He moved from his place leaning against the doorway where he had stood since returning from telling their family the news. Standing beside her, he followed her gaze to the tiny face peaking out of the pink folds.

The skin was a light olive, the hair dark and beginning to curl. A small round nose, and a tiny pink mouth graced the baby. He tentatively reached out his right hand and stroked the right cheek with the tip of his finger. It was as soft as a petal against his skin. A tiny hand reached out of the blankets and five little fingers wrapped themselves around his larger one. Something in Tony's heart melted at the touch of this miracle nestled in his wife's arms.

"Would you like to hold her, Tony?" Ziva asked, her eyes moving to his.

He didn't trust his voice, so he just nodded. He lowered his arms and Ziva settled his daughter into them. He lifted her up and cradled the little girl against his chest just as Ziva had done, being careful to support the baby's head. He bent his head down and kissed her on the forehead. He found his voice again and asked, "What are we going to name her?"

They had been tossing names about for days. Just when they had thought they were settled on one boy and one girl name, one or both of them would change their minds or one would hear a different name they liked and the cycle would begin again. Debating, researching meanings (mostly Ziva), looking for movie references (mostly Tony), or checking to see if any family or person who had died strangely had carried the name in question (both of them). A few had passed all stages but none had been right.

"I think we should call her Avigail Adaiah," Tony whispered looking into the dark eyes of his new-born daughter.

Ziva looked surprised. "That is Hebrew for…"

"Father in Rejoicing." Tony finished. "It suits her, don't you think?"

Ziva smiled at him, her eyes soft. She was just about to ask why he had chosen the middle name when they were joined by the exuberant entrance of none other than the namesake of the little girl, Abby herself.

"Oh! Let me see her! Gibbs said you two had had enough time and I could come see the baby now!" Abby couldn't seem to stand still, shifting from one foot to the other, holding a black gift bag in her hands. Tony exchanged a look with Ziva, and carried the newly named Avigail over to the excited Goth.

Abby set down the bag and extended her arms, and as Tony carefully placed her in the waiting embrace he said, "Here she is Abby, little Avigail."

Abby looked up at him, green eyes wide. "You named her after me?" she gasped.

"Yes and no," Ziva answered from the bed. "It means 'Father in Rejoicing' in Hebrew. Tony picked it out."

"I love it!" Abby said, grinning down at the baby. "Hi Avigail! I'm your aunt Abby, and you and I are going to be close, I can tell. Oh! I almost forgot. Here, take her back. I have a present for her." Tony took her back, watching, amused.

She fished the present out from what seemed half a package of black tissue paper. She produced a stuffed hippo wearing a red cape with black bats on it and a tag saying 'Super Bert'. Tony had to laugh. Ziva chuckled as well, along with the rest of the group who had now entered to hospital room. Gibbs stood at the back, arms crossed across his chest, a rare grin on his face. Tim was standing next to Ducky and Palmer, matching smiles on each face.

It was Ziva who finally spoke. "It is perfect Abby. Thank you."

"You are very welcome," Abby replied.

Many pictures were taken that day. The ones that would become the favorites were a picture of Avigail and her new toy, Ziva and her daughter, Tony and the baby, the new family all together, various member of the team and friends who had come to welcome the baby girl, and a single picture of Gibbs expertly holding the child, eyes soft, Avigail looking straight back at him.

When all had left and the room was quiet, Tony again sat on the bed next to his wife who was again holding her child. Ziva now asked the question she had meant to ask earlier. "Why did you choose the name Adaiah for her middle name? She has two 'A' names now." Her voice was soft and curious, not accusatory.

Tony answered her, voice equally low. "Because of what it means."

Ziva smiled gently. "And what does it mean?"

"You mean you don't know?" Tony was surprised. He'd gone with something Hebrew on purpose, wanting to reflect his wife's heritage.

She shook her head slowly. "I have not heard that particular name before."

Tony grinned, looking down at his little girl with eyes full of love. "It means 'Precious'."

* * *

_Light, / warm and heavy as pure gold / and angels sing softly / to the new-born babe._

* * *

**Short and sweet. Reviews would be lovely!**_  
_


	13. Night Magic

__**This is the second to last one. :( On the bright side, thanks to AliyahNCIS, this will be the first story I've ever completed. **

**Night Magic  
**

* * *

_Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us, / And black are the waters that sparkled so green. / The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us, / At rest in the hollows that rustle between._

* * *

Ziva's favorite time of day was nighttime. It had not always been this way, but now it was. Night was when the house was finally quiet, and here in the nursery with her two-month old daughter in her arms, Ziva felt the most at peace.

Avigail fussed quietly, and Ziva hushed her, cradling the little girl against her shoulder, and hummed the lullaby her mother had sang to her many years ago. Avi quieted and Ziva relaxed. She ran her hand over the smooth wood of the rocking chair in which she sat. It was expertly made, just like all of the nursery furniture in the pale green and white room. Handmade, every piece, crafted by the experienced hands of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. For all intents and purposes, he was Avi's grandfather, more than Eli or DiNozzo Sr. He had presented her with the rocking chair on the day he ordered her to go on desk duty, and each of the other gifts had been given regularly. The last gift was a hand made mobile which hung above the crib, crafted into the shape of various animals and painted with a detailed and loving hand.

Tony was asleep in the room down the hall that they shared. They had agreed to share the nighttime feedings and changings but Ziva took more of them. He needed his sleep. She was still on desk duty until she could be cleared while he was under no such restrictions. She could nap by her desk.

Ziva treasured these moments, just holding her daughter, singing softly to her, knowing that she would be this small for only so long. There had been a time when she could not have dreamt her life would be like this. A good job that kept her busy but in one place, working with people she cared about and who cared about her. A loving husband who knew about the scars and didn't care, because he had scars of his own, and the miracle who was looking up at her with eyes that were green but looked dark in the shadows of the nursery as Ziva settled her back against her chest.

Nights were magical to Ziva. The world seemed softer, somehow, at night, with the shadows softening harsh edges and the moon turning everything to could hear the chirps of crickets outside the window and the stars glittered in the inky blackness. This window faced away from the city, so her view was less obscured by D.C.'s lights. It felt a world away from her job, the painful realities she saw all too often.

She was very glad that her daughter would grow up differently than she had. There was no doubt that this father loved his daughter. He would never send her overseas to die.

She forced herself away from such morbid thoughts. This was her time, not to be soiled by old family grief.

She stroked the soft hair that graced the small head of Avigail. "Why are you not sleeping tonight, hmm? Are you trying to be like your parents and pull a whole-nighter?" She asked the child who stubbornly refused to rest, though she was quiet now.

"That's all-nighter, sweetcheeks." The voice came from the door frame, where a disheveled Tony stood.

Ziva raised an eyebrow at him. "You should be sleeping."

"It was my turn," he replied. "You should be sleeping too." He walked over to stand beside the rocking chair. Together they gazed down at their child who looked back up at them. "Give her to me, you sleep."

She didn't look at him as she spoke. "You need the sleep more than I do. You are not stuck behind a desk all day while everyone else goes off on cases."

"You hate that, don't you?" he said. "Then you should go to bed so you will be well rested and can be cleared. I set up the eval for tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise."

He was pouting. She could hear it in his voice. Ziva chuckled. Tony had never grown up on the inside, it seemed. "Thank you. But I still think you should go back to bed."

"I will if you will." He leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and gently took the baby from her. He gave her his best grin and walked over to the crib. Gently he placed Avigail back inside, and then walked back to his wife. She rolled her eyes at his smirk, and got out of the chair.

"If she cries again tonight, you are getting up," she warned him as they went back to their bed.

"With pleasure."

He had agreed with her. Nights truly were magical, it seemed.

* * *

_Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us, / And black are the waters that sparkled so green. / The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us, / At rest in the hollows that rustle between._

* * *

__**Just to let all my wonderful readers know, I'm a student IRL, and on the days when I don't want to even think about homework, your reviews can change my whole outlook for the better. So thanks for all the fantastic reviews. **


	14. The Amazing Day

**This is the final one-shot of this collection. I've had a blast and a half writing it, and it's all thanks to you, my wonderful readers. The reviews have made some gray days in my first semester at college much brighter. Whether you review once or every time, I want to say a big thank you.**

**A bigger thank you goes to ****AliyahNCIS**** for all she did to help make this story better.**

**While this may be the end of A Boy and A Girl, this is not the end for me. Coming soon is a second series of one-shots which will be based on the song If Ever Two Were One (go check it out, it's amazing and on youtube) those will be up soon.**

**The Amazing Day**

* * *

_I thank You God for most this amazing day/for the leaping greenly spirits of trees  
and a blue true dream of sky/and for everything/which is natural which is infinite which is yes/I who have died am alive again today/and this is the sun's birthday /this is the birthday of life and love and wings/and of the great happening illimitably earth/_

* * *

It was the third happiest day of Anthony DiNozzo's life. The first had been his wedding day. Finally marrying Ziva, the sight of her in the dress….and having people who cared there to witness it, it had been a wonderful day. He had never expected to marry, much less to Ziva, or to have so many people care about him enough to show up. His father had even come, but Tony had known it was mostly to meet women and try to schmooze a business deal.

The second happiest day had to do directly with the squirming toddler in his arms. Avigail DiNozzo was three, almost four if you asked her, and every bit a daddy's girl. The day she was born had been truly perfect. The little girl in his arms turned to look at him and asked, "Daddy, is it time yet?" He chuckled, and kissed her olive forehead. Avi had his eyes, her mother's face, and both of their talent for mischief. She had the whole family wrapped around her finger.

"No Avigail DiNozzo, it is not time yet, just like it wasn't time yet the last three times you asked me and everyone else," he answered. "I know you are excited, sweetheart, but I will tell you when it's time."

"Okay!" she answered brightly. "Can I go see Aunt Abby now?" Tony nodded yes and set her down. She ran over to her namesake who scooped her up and set the little girl on her lap. Avigail began chattering on about what she had done at daycare that day. He smiled as he watched the pair. He felt someone come up behind him and he knew who it was without even having to look. "Hi Boss."

He felt a smack to the back of his head. Tony turned, and Gibbs asked, "Why aren't you with Ziva?"

"She kicked me out and told me to go keep my daughter out of the nurses' hair asking endless questions."

That earned a chuckle out of Gibbs. "She has an inquisitive mind."

"She got that from Ziva," Tony said, turning back to watch as Avi went from Abby to Ducky, demanding a story. The medical examiner complied, to yet again regale the small girl with tales of his youth.

"Don't discount yourself, DiNozzo. You are an investigator, after all." Gibbs moved away to sit by Abby and listen as well to Ducky's stories.

Tony leaned against the wall, just content to be watching. He was truly thankful for the people around him, and for his little girl. She was, as Ziva would say it, "The fruit of his eye." Ask Tony ten years ago if he thought he would be married with children and Tony would have keeled over laughing. But here he was, in love with his wife and trying to keep up with a magnificent and precocious toddler.

The chaos that was his life was about to increase many times over with the new arrival on its way. He smiled, happy just thinking about it. So many times in the past few years he had come close, so very close, to never having any of this. He had been so close to being a statistic, to a body in a morgue. A few times he had come so close to death he hadn't been sure afterwards if he was still alive. Now though, Tony was sure. He was alive. The whole world seemed brighter than before. Like in the Wizard of Oz when it switched from black and white to Technicolor. He knew the reason. He'd found his 'over the rainbow', in a life he never expected.

Coming out of his reverie, and seeing his daughter was suitably occupied, he went back through the double doors and to the hospital room where his wife waited. He was just in time. The doctor was declaring Ziva ready to bring their second child all the way into the world. She looked up at him as he entered, flashed him a look that was half welcome and half 'this is all your fault'. He came up beside her, kissed her forehead and settled down on the chair he had vacated at her request some time ago. Offering his hand to grip with some trepidation, he nevertheless did not complain when she squeezed with all of her considerable strength.

A few minuets later, the grinding of his bones became worth it. For Anthony DiNozzo heard the first thin cry of his child and the wonderful words: "It's a boy!"

Holding his son for the first time, was the third most wonderful moment of his entire life. It did however, give the first two a run for their money.

"Hello Joshua," the man whispered to his tiny, newborn son. "Today is your birthday, and it is one of the most wonderful days ever."

_Fin_

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_I thank You God for most this amazing day/for the leaping greenly spirits of trees  
and a blue true dream of sky/and for everything/which is natural which is infinite which is yes/I who have died am alive again today/and this is the sun's birthday /this is the birthday of life and love and wings/and of the great happening illimitably earth/_

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**Reviews are wonderful as always, and I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have. Never fear, I have many more songs inspiring me with this magnificent couple. Remember to be on the lookout for my next work!**

**-The Lady Grace**


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